Drowning, not waving
by Bower-Of-Bliss
Summary: 30 year old Bella Swan is the swimming instructor who teaches the Sunday morning daddy and baby classes.  Although he's a forbidden man, her attraction to Edward Cullen, the newest daddy to join the Waterbabes group, is instantaneous. Can Bella drown her libido and maintain her professionalism? B x E x H2O equals slippery when wet. All Human. Minimal angst. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**This will be the one and only time I'll say it because I don't like repeating myself (just ask my kids) - I don't own Twilight or its characters, but I do own this plot. Just remember that for future reference.**

**Please Note:  
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**1) **T**his story originally started as a drabble, but the characters wouldn't shut up, so it kind of got out of control.**** Drabble fics typically have short chapters. Initially, you could just view the shortest chapters as pieces of a puzzle.  
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** 2) There are a lot of chapters. This is not because I am a review h00r. If you choose to review every chapter then that's very thoughtful of you, but I didn't write the short chapters just to bump up my review tally. That said, reviews are awesome.  
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**3) **MGM Film Producer and Studio Executive, Louis B. Mayer, once said, **_**"**__**There's only one good plot, and that's a delayed fuck.**__**" **_This story is about UST. Unresolved Sexual Tension. My characters will not be fucking any time soon... it's all about the build up. If you want instant gratification there are a bazillion other fics that will cater to your whim. I suggest you type the word "Smut" or "Lemony" in the search engine instead of anything written by Bower-Of-Bliss. I prefer plot/character driven stories where the sex (when it happens) is meaningful. That's just how I roll.**

**4) Haterz move to the left. If you have nothing constructive to say and just want to flame me personally, then say nothing at all and flounce (quietly). **Instead, save** that energy for your other favorite pastimes... such as treading on puppies, stealing candy from children, and denouncing Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. **In otherwords, I don't need my spirit crushed, thanks. ****

****5) At times, this story will be bordering on crackfic, and at other times it will merrily dance into full-blown crackfic, so if it makes you laugh or cringe in embarrassment, then I have accomplished my mission.**  
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**_**Hope you like this. B-o-B xx**_**

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><p><strong><em><strong>~*~ Drowning, Not Waving ~*~<strong>_**

**_Sunday morning - 27th May 2012 7.30am._**

Humidity and the familiar, heavy scent of chlorine hits me like a wave the instant I open the front door of the building. To me, the aquatic center is like a second home. As I walk through the door, I jump in fright when the balding head of Joseph Brandon pops up from behind the reception desk like a jack-in-the-box. He's busy on the phone, and I give him a small wave in greeting.

"_Hi, Joe_," I mouth.

He grins at me in acknowledgement. With his head cocked to one side, he holds the phone between his ear and shoulder, listening intently to whoever is on the other end of the line. Absently, he searches his pockets and then starts to shift items around on the desk.

"_Have you seen my glasses?_" he mouths.

Reaching forward, I pull the reading glasses that are perched on top of his head, down to the bridge of his nose. He smiles sheepishly and flips through the pages of booking sheets that are clipped to a large board that is affixed to the desktop.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh. Okay," he says into the phone. Picking up a pen and a ruler, Joe crosses out a name. "Well, thanks for letting us know, Mrs. Cameron and I hope we'll see Jared back once he's feeling better. Bye now." He nestles the outdated phone back into its cradle and gives me a fatherly kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Bella."

"So, was that a cancellation from one of my students?"

"Yeah, Jared from the 9:00am class came down with some sort of violent stomach bug last night. He's in hospital so he won't be here today, and he might miss next Sunday's lesson, too; however, he's no longer one of your students. You don't teach in the Swordfish lane anymore."

"What? Since when?" I ask, irritation lacing my tone.

"Um… I've made some changes to the roster."


	2. Chapter 2

I've worked part-time at the Brandon Aquatic Center for the last ten years. I started working at the center as a way to make extra money while doing my combined Bachelor and Masters Degrees. Although I have a full-time, Monday to Friday career as a Speech Pathologist, I still work as a swimming instructor on Sunday mornings, just for the love of it.

I've been allocated to the Swordfish lane for the last eighteen months, and I mainly work with the six and seven-year old children. I love it. By that age, I can teach the kids a combination of side breathing, freestyle arms and flutter kicking to produce an intermediate level of freestyle and backstroke swimming, and an elementary level of breaststroke. I'll be supremely pissed off if I've been forced to change lanes.

"Why have I been reallocated?"

"I had to fire Jessica Stanley. Mike Newton from the 11:00am daddy group, made another complaint against her. I sent her packing."

Apparently, last Sunday morning, Jessica had groped Mike's ass a few times under the water during one of the Waterbabes classes. She had been warned before, but obviously, the stupid bitch had too much water between the ears to understand the threat of dismissal for inappropriate behavior was real. I've met Mike a few times, and he seems like a genuinely lovely guy. He's a young single dad with an adorable fourteen-month-old boy named Tyler. He's also an old buddy of Alice's as they grew up living in the same street.

Honestly, I'm not sad to see Jessica go. Besides being a whore, she was unreliable, too. Whenever Jessica called in sick for her weekend morning classes (or more likely, hung-over) I was always the one who got roped-in to teach her sessions.

"So what lane will I work in?"

Silently, I pray I'm moving up to instruct the older kids. I would love to work with the Marlins, but even going down a level and working with the Dolphins would be okay, too. I don't even bother to hope that I'll be working with the Sharks. There's no way in Hell that Alice will ever let her dad roster her out of the Sharks lane.

"Waterbabes," he informs in a deadpan voice. "Hey! Don't blame me. It was Alice's idea," he says lifting his hands in defense when I give him the scary bitch-brow.

Although Alice Brandon is five years younger than I am, she is one of my best friends. She's also the co-owner of the aquatic center along with her father, Joseph.

I look to the ceiling, close my eyes, and stamp my foot in frustration before letting out a whimper of defeat.

Joe is laughing at me.

Bastard.

"Come on, Bella. You know you wuv working wid da widdle bubbies," he coos ridiculously.

It's not that I dislike teaching the Waterbabe classes… it's just that being around all those cute babies makes my thirty-year-old – soon to be shriveled up – ovaries ache.


	3. Chapter 3

With a sigh of resignation, I push through the low swing-door and walk around the reception desk to where Joe is standing and smirking at me. Flipping through the booking sheets, I look through the list of names in the eight Waterbabe classes I'll be teaching. My first class starts at 8.00am and my last class finishes at 12:00pm. The last two classes of the morning are the daddy classes, and I note the 11:00am class is fully booked with six babies and daddies attending, but the 11:30am class, only has two.

The daddy and baby classes were Alice's brainchild. Mike Newton had complained to Alice that being a single, stay-at-home dad made him feel isolated, and he wanted to be able to network with other single dads or have some contact with other male parents at least once a week. Most playgroups, it seems, are predominately geared towards mothers. Mike said that when he attended some of the playgroups with Tyler, he was often made to feel like an unwanted intruder by the married women, or potential baby-daddy material by some of the desperate and dateless single moms.

After walking through to the back office, I stow my bag in the bottom of my locker. I kick off my flip-flops and strip out of my sweatpants and hoodie, leaving me in my navy-blue, one-piece swimsuit. I then pull on my navy-blue T-shirt – the one with the word 'INSTRUCTOR' emblazoned in white lettering on the front. The Brandon Aquatic Center logo is featured on the back in a pale blue and white design. Fumbling around in my bag, I grab some hair ties, my squeeze water bottle, and towel.

Making my way out of the office, I head towards the female change room. Before getting into the water, I need to put up my hair and use the bathroom. I spot Alice and Jake in the pool area as they uncoil the colorful lane ropes from their storage reels. They are roping off the Waterbabe, WaterTot and Early Tadpoles sections from the main swimming lanes.

"I have a bone to pick with you," I say as I pass by her. "Waterbabes? Really?"

Ali turns to look at me. "Yeah, I know, Belly, but you're the only one we can depend upon to run the Waterbabe classes. Dad trusts you over the younger, less-experienced instructors, and I know if you're the one who is running the daddy groups, the center won't end up with a sexual-harassment lawsuit."

I can hear eighteen-year-old Jake Black snickering all the way from the deep end.

The little fucker.

With a huff, I continue walking towards the female changing room.


	4. Chapter 4

While staring at myself in the mirror, as I tie my hair up into a messy bun, my bitter half, Libby, suddenly appears on my left shoulder. She's dressed as an old woman and sits in a rocking chair. As she crochets colorful afghan blankets, she mockingly translates the meaning of Alice's words that are ricocheting around my head.

**({'})**_ Blah-blah-blah…, Bella, we trust you to work with the daddies because you're old and sexually non-threatening; despite the fact you've been abstinent from sex for the past two years_.

"Involuntarily abstinent," I counter.

**({'})**_ Whatever, girlfriend..._

I know I should be concerned that my vagina has an inner voice, and more importantly, that I'm talking back to her, but it's been happening a lot lately.

**({'})**_ You do realize that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness._

"What's the second sign?"

**({'})**_ Hairy palms… not that you have to worry about any of that. You've been neglecting me for a long time._

**({'})**_ Bitch._

"Just shut up and get back in your hole, Libby."

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><p><strong>AN**

**Meet Libby. **

**({'}) **_Hello! *waves*_

**Libby is a vagina. **

**If you find the concept of a vagina with a consciousness disturbing, then this story is not for you. **

**Alternatively, you could think of Libby as the crazy inner voice without a filter that lives inside of all of us, or as a combination of the devil and/or angel who sits on your shoulder to tempt or temper your behavior. **

**({'}) **_Whatever helps you sleep at night._

**Irvine Welsh in his novel '_Filth' (recently made into a movie starring James McAvoy_) wrote a main character who plays host to a thinking/ talking tapeworm. So I'm allowed to write about a thinking/ talking vagina. **

**It's fan fiction, not 'War and Peace'. **

**It's not meant to be taken seriously.**

**We all say men think with their dicks, so I say why can't a woman also be led by a lower force.**

**({'}) **_Now, please don't judge me by my outward appearance. Trust me; I look much better in Microsoft Word than on FFN._

**Libby does look quite wide here, and I mean, we _all_ know for a fact Bella's twat is as tight as a ducks arse (because I think it's been mentioned in just about every Twi-fic I've ever read) even an hour after she's just given birth to octuplets (vaginally) so it must be true.**

**With this in mind, I thought about giving Libby a clitoridectomy, so she'd look like this - ({})**

**However, I'm totally against female genital mutilation, so the clit stays.**

**({'}) **_Phew. Thanks._


	5. Chapter 5

I make several trips to the storage room to collect the equipment I'll need for the Waterbabe classes.

There's the basket of pool toys and water-wings, the yellow plastic slide, the bright-blue foam pool mat, the green kick boards, and the floating tunnel that Alice made from colorful, foam pool noodles.

I arrange the equipment along the side of the pool, close to the ladder. After tossing the toys and balls into the roped off section, I descend the ladder and ease myself into the water. Standing at my full height, the water level rests above my navel, but just below the underside of my breasts. Thankfully, it's a perfectly comfortable temperature today, and I flop backwards into the water to wet my hair.

And I sigh.

I love the water; especially when it's quiet like this. I love how the world around me becomes muffled. All I can hear are the sounds of the bubbles as they escape from beneath my shirt to ascend to the surface, and the swishing noises of my limbs as they drag my body through the water from one end of the pool to the other. When I float with my arms outstretched, I close my eyes and listen to the rhythmic sound of my own breathing.

_Breathing in.  
>Breathing out.<br>Breathing in.  
>Breathing out.<em>

From a young age, I learned to swim. It was a necessity as my father, Charlie, was, and still is an avid fisherman. Many lazy weekends and holidays were spent by the river, and quite a few times I'd fallen out of the boat, or had slipped on the muddy banks into the turbulent water. My father used to call me '_Bullfrog_' because I seemed to spend equal amounts of time in the water as on land or boat.

_Weightless_.

I adore the feeling of weightlessness.


	6. Chapter 6

At 7:50am, the doors to the center open to the public. The families file past the front desk before pushing through the glass doors to the pool area. The parents yell out to the kids, "Stop running or you'll slip over," as they jockey for their favorite positions on the long, metal benches that line the walls. They take out their towels and wipe off the condensation that has collected on the benches overnight before taking a seat. Kids are divested of clothing. Goggles and swim caps are donned - much to the chagrin of some of the reluctant kids. The sounds of their voices are amplified in this place, echoing off the walls and domed ceiling. It's a cacophony of sound.

The other instructors enter the pool, and the children line up, awaiting permission to enter the water. I position myself next to the ladder, and with outstretched hands, I take the babies from the arms of their parents. I cradle the babies in my own arms so the adults can make their way down the ladder into the water. With each unfamiliar baby and parent, I introduce myself and get acquainted with their names and the ages of the babies. The Waterbabe classes cater for babies from six months to sixteen months of age.

The first class is full, with six babies and six parents in the pool. The parents are chatting among themselves, and I clap my hands to get their attention.

"Okay, everyone. Let's get into a circle, and we'll sing the '_Little Green Frog_' song, twice. First, we'll go in a clockwise direction as we do the actions and then the second time around, we'll go the other way. Here we go."

Kill me.

Just kill me now…


	7. Chapter 7

**I have no idea who owns the copyright to the frog song, and I'm too lazy to look it up.**

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><p><strong>Glumph went the little green frog one day<strong>

As I sing and perform the actions (while feeling like a complete tool) I glance over at Alice, who is standing on the edge of the pool at the end of the Sharks lane. She is barking out instructions like a drill sergeant to the preteens who are performing butterfly strokes to propel themselves through the water.

**Glumph went the little green frog.**

Our eyes meet, and Alice gives me a knowing smirk.

**Glumph went the little green frog one day**

I give Alice the bitch-brow in response, and she giggles.

**And its eyes went glumph, glumph, glumph.**

Childishly, I cross my eyes and poke my tongue out in her direction, and she reciprocates in a likewise manner.

**But we all know frogs go la-dee-da-dee-da**  
><strong>la-dee-da-dee-da, la-dee-da-dee-da<strong>  
><strong>We all know frogs go la-dee-da-dee-da<strong>  
><strong>They don't go glumph, glumph, glumph.<strong>

"_You owe me, big time, Alice_," I mouth quickly between lyrics.

**Glumph went the little green frog one day…**

Alice manages to give me the middle finger in front of forty minors and their parents by pretending to scratch the side of her nose.


	8. Chapter 8

Six Waterbabe sessions have passed by quickly, but now, at 11:00am, my enthusiasm is waning. Normally, I'd be hitting the showers, but the daddies-only sessions continue for another hour. The atmosphere in the aquatic center has quieted down considerably with only a dozen or so adults and six babies left behind. One by one, the parents begin to hand me their little darlings, and the daddies descend the ladder to join me in the water.

First, there's Demetri, with one-year-old Chelsea. She is a small baby for her age, and with very little hair to speak of, she reminds me of a kewpie doll. This is their first Waterbabes class, and Heidi, who is Demetri's wife, has her digital camera at the ready to capture any precious moments between father and daughter.

As Marcus gets into the pool, his partner, Felix, hands me their seven-month-old son, Caius. I have to wonder what sort of tortures this poor kid is going to endure during his school years, having to go through life with such an utterly pretentious name, on top of having parents who are both fabulously gayer than a bag of butterflies.

**({'})**_ I predict lots of wedgies or de-pantsing in Caius's future. _

I agree. Kids can be so cruel.

**({'})**_ I was referring to the teachers, actually…_


	9. Chapter 9

Next in the pool is Ben. Ben is a shy, soft-bodied man who is quite short in comparison to his Amazonian-like wife, Angela. Angela is heavily pregnant with their second child, and she's walking with a distinct waddle as she makes her way back to the bench, having just deposited their daughter into my waiting arms. I surreptitiously huff in the scent of Katie's skin as I '_nom-nom-nom_' the back of her chubby little hand. Without fail, it makes her giggle delightfully. Fourteen month-old Katie is such a cutie, and she always smells divine. Seriously, they should bottle this kid. They'd make a fortune.

Next is Aro, who hands me his daughter, Jane. Aro is an older father and is quite possibly the hairiest man I've ever seen. His graying chest, back, and shoulder hair is thick and is about an inch long. My mind likens him to a silverback gorilla, and I wish he would wear a shirt in the water. If I have to wear a shirt in the pool - Aro should be required to wear one, too.

**({'})**_ *shudder*_

His daughter is a disagreeable tot, who seems older than her twelve months of age. If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now. Jane is scowling at me as if I'm the one at fault for removing her favorite pacifier from between her deadly, sharp teeth. It is then I remember that evil Jane is a biter, so I quickly pass her back to Aro the nanosecond his feet touch the bottom of the pool. Aro holds Jane tightly to his body as he wades further into the center of the pool to join up with Demetri, Ben and Marcus. With her face pressed up against Aro's chest, Jane starts to suck on the chunky, gold men's necklace that hangs just above the height of his nipples. I worry that one day, Jane might end up with a hairball in her throat.

Tanya, who is Aro's young trophy wife, is sitting on the metal benches, and she is seemingly entranced by something on her iPhone. When Felix sits down too close to Heidi, Heidi in turn, shuffles her butt along the bench to sit closer to Tanya. With Tanya's personal space bubble encroached upon, she quickly angles her phone screen away from the space-invader's gaze. Tanya then moves further along the bench, adding a little more distance between them. Her cheeks look slightly flushed. Silently, I wonder if it is because Tanya likes to read smutty stories on her iPhone.

Or is that just me?


	10. Chapter 10

Next to join us in the water is Royce King; a guy who makes my skin crawl. He is a rather crass man who insists on wearing Speedos. Now, if Royce was under the age of 35 and had the body of Ryan Reynolds (or better yet, the face and body of Taylor Kitsch or David Beckham) I would have no issues with the wearing of tight, white Speedos; none whatsoever.

**({'})**_ Fuckin' A! I would make it mandatory!_

**({'}) **_Can I get a Hell yeah?_

However…

Royce is over forty with a mullet hairstyle, and he has the body of a God. And, unfortunately, that God happens to be Buddha. Royce's only redeeming features are his long-suffering wife, Vera, who never speaks a word of English, and their gorgeous fifteen month-old son, Henry. Henry looks more like his mother, fortunately, and he has inherited the same lovely olive complexion she has, which is a stark contrast to the voluminous amounts of pasty-white skin his father is currently displaying way too much of.

Royce is leering at me. Thankfully, in two weeks, young Henry will be moving to the next group which is the Watertots.


	11. Chapter 11

Last to enter the water is Mike Newton, and he looks somewhat relieved to see me in the pool instead of Jessica. He smiles broadly as he passes Tyler to me. Mike is a 23-year-old ex-construction worker who lives with his mother, Karen. Mike's ex-fiancée, Lauren Mallory, dumped him a few months after Tyler was born. Apparently, she took off with another man, leaving their baby son in Mike's care.

Taking hold of Tyler's wrist, I shake his arm gently, so his hand waves at his Grandma while Karen waves back. Suddenly, Tyler squeals, "Gamma!" at the top of his lungs, right into my ear. He then begins to wiggle his body excitedly. He's a remarkably strong kid and is quite heavy to hold. Mike wades towards me, and thankfully, he takes Tyler back into his arms before I end up accidentally dropping him into the pool. Tyler is still yelling and waving at his Gamma by the time Mike reaches the rest of the group.

For some time now, Alice has been trying to set me up on a date with Mike. It is for this reason, part of me suspects she had ulterior motives for allocating me to the Waterbabes class.

Mike is just… nice.

Nice face. Nice enough body.

Nice personality.

Blue eyes. Blonde hair.

But there is no _wow_ factor.

He is generic. He is store-brand.

He is cookie-cutter, all-American-boy, boring.

Plus, he comes with emotional baggage.

**({'})**_ Like you can afford to be picky…_

He's too young for me.

**({'})** _Hello? You're not getting any younger, and you should be hitting your sexual peak. And duh! Younger guy equals diminished refractory period._

Libby starts humming a tune, and it takes me a few minutes to figure out it's '_Shook Me All Night Long'_ by AC/DC.


	12. Chapter 12

Twenty minutes into the lesson, Alice walks out of the office and comes to stand by the pool. I'm demonstrating to Demetri how to put the white pair of water-wings on Chelsea's dainty arms. They almost envelop her whole arm. A few more of these on her body and she'd look like the Michelin Man.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" Ali asks.

I set up the little yellow slide on the end of the large floating foam mat in the middle of the pool, and I tell the dads to circle the mat while paddling the arms of the babies through the water. Once they reach the slide, they will allow the babies to slip down, plunging them into the water.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know there'll be an addition to the next class, but they'll be running about five minutes late. Is that okay with you?"

I sigh in annoyance, but say, "Yeah, no problems."

I turn to see Jane, the last baby in the circle, has gone down the slide. She's highly unimpressed because her face got wet. She's scowling at me again, and I feel the beginnings of a headache.

"Okay, everyone! Let's do that again, but as we do, we'll sing, '_The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round_'."


	13. Chapter 13

At the end of the lesson, the guys hand me their babies before they climb the ladder and get out of the pool. I give all the babies a little cuddle and say, "Bye-bye," before passing them back to their daddies – all except for evil baby Jane, of course.

Not only is Jane a biter, she is also very regular with her bowels. Without fail, she will manage to dirty her swim diaper some time throughout the lesson. I can smell her now, even though I'm holding her at arm's length. Something about the water always seems to activate Jane's lower intestine, and not for the first time, I am relieved the pool is heavily chlorinated. Every time she does this, I'm tempted to introduce her little butt hole to Mr. Cork.

Some dads pass their babies off to their wives, partners, or parents. They, in turn, take the babies over to the three change tables that are located along the wall to get them dried and redressed while the dads go off to the change rooms to shower. Some of them (usually the ones who have boys) pick up the diaper bags and take their babies into the change rooms to shower with them.

Standing by the side of the pool, waiting to get in, are James and Laurent. They are both lean and muscular guys, and they always appear slightly dangerous in that, '_I've-been-to-jail but-it-was-because-I-was-drunk-and-pissed-on-a-cop -car_,' kind of way. If not for the fact they are getting into the pool with their kids, Riley and Bree, I would feel as though I'm about to go swimming with a pair of sharks.


	14. Chapter 14

We've been in the pool for about four minutes and have already sung '_The Little Green Frog Song_'. We are part way through '_Rock-a-bye Your Bear,_' and my ears want to bleed.

James couldn't carry a tune in a hand basket if his life depended on it, but young Riley, his ten month-old son, either loves his '_Da-da_' unconditionally, or is completely tone deaf. I definitely think it's the former as his face is beaming in adoration at his father. It's amusing how James' face and demeanor changes from a tough guy, into that of a complete sap within the second that Riley starts to smile. The love between father and son is palpable. Vicky, who is James' partner, watches on with pride while chatting with Laurent's wife, Irina.

Laurent has an average singing voice in that he is occasionally out of tune, but for the most part, I don't feel the need to stuff my eardrums with cotton wool. His thirteen-month-old daughter, Bree, was initially unhappy about being in the water, but with her father's patience and reassurance, she's now happily enjoying being swished from side to side in the water, fully trusting his capable hands will keep her afloat.

It just goes to show you can never judge a book by its cover.

Near the shallow end of the pool, the glass doors from the reception area open, and following behind Alice are two of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.


	15. Chapter 15

As the beautiful couple walk toward us, it plays out like a scene in a movie. They appear to be walking in slow motion.

The glamazon, who is momentarily preoccupied by something within the cavernous depths of her enormous leather diaper bag, appears to walk with the poise and grace of a runway supermodel. Her long, soft, golden hair bounces prettily with every step, and as she passes by each of the narrow windows that are evenly dispersed along the length of the wall, her hair shines brilliantly in the sunlight. Staring at the gorgeous woman, I feel as though I'm watching a TV commercial for Pantene. The blond-bombshell has a figure that is to die for. Her legs are statuesque. Her neck is regal, and her breasts, although quite ample, don't overwhelm her frame.

**({'})** _I would totally go bisexual for her._

I'm not interested in becoming bisexual.

**({'})** _But it would increase your chances of getting laid by fifty percent!_

I'm allergic to pussy, anyway.

**({'})** _You're allergic to cats; it's not the same thing._

I'm about to argue, but my mind is distracted by the breathtaking man who is pushing what looks to be one of those expensive Orbit Baby pushchairs that all the spawning celebs are going gaga over.

He is…

Devastatingly gorgeous.

Jaw-droppingly handsome.

Panty melting hotness.

**({'})** _Wow!_

You can say that again.

**({'})** _Wow!_

Our gazes connect momentarily, and the man smiles.

_*Kaboom*_

Um… what was that?

**({'})** _I hate to be the one to tell you this, Bella, but I think your left ovary just exploded._


	16. Chapter 16

Alice interrupts my stupor by introducing me to the newcomers.

"Bella Swan, I'd like you to meet the Cullens. This is Rosalie, and this is Edward," she says gesturing to the pair.

They look down at me and say, "Hi."

"And this little sweetheart… is Emily," Alice says as she crouches down next to the pushchair. She gives Emily a little tickle near her neck, and the infant giggles adorably. "How old is she again?" Alice asks, looking back up to Edward.

"Eight months this week," he answers with a slight English accent, and then he gives baby Emily an adoring smile.

**({'})** _He has a face that could launch a thousand hips._

Edward turns and walks over to the metal bench. He starts undressing quickly by first kicking off his flip-flops. He then takes off his black Adidas sweat pants. Underneath, he is wearing a pair of red and white board-shorts that stop just above his knees.

He pulls his black t-shirt up to reveal a set of abs that appear hard enough to grate parmesan cheese. His low-slung board-shorts offer me a spectacular view of his Adonis belt. There is a smattering of golden-brown hair that runs vertically down the center of his abdomen. It starts from just below his navel, disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. From what I have seen so far, he is perfection personified.

I think I just came.

**({'})** _Trust me… you didn't. I think I would know._


	17. Chapter 17

With the shirt fully removed, I can see Edward also has a light dusting of chest hair over his amazing pecs. I note he also has a tattoo on his inner, left bicep. From here, I can't quite make out what it says.

Rosalie Cullen interrupts my perving by passing baby Emily to me. I wasn't even aware she'd been taken out of her pushchair, let alone stripped of her outer clothing.

"I'm really so sorry we were late," Rosalie says, placing Emily into my waiting arms. "Originally, we were going to start Milly's lessons next Sunday, but Edward's meeting was rescheduled. With our morning free, we took a chance and called to see if we could make the last class. We were running on time, but then Milly decided she wanted to be fed before we left."

As she is speaking, I detect that Rosalie's English accent is much stronger than Edward's.

"That's fine, but did you just call her 'Milly?' I thought I heard Alice call her 'Emily'."

"Oh, she's both actually. Edward nicknamed her Milly the day she was born. It's kind of stuck with her ever since."

Edward descends the ladder and smiles as he takes Milly from my arms. As he walks toward James and Laurent, he holds her aloft so that she is staring down at him from above. She smiles broadly, revealing small, white teeth that have not long broken the surface of her lower gum. He lowers Milly so they are face to face, and she reaches forward with her chubby little hands to grasp his ears. Milly then brings her face close to his and squeals, "Ded-ded-ded-ded-ded," before smacking her hands excitedly on his cheeks. She then moves her mouth close to his nose, but at the last second, he flinches.

"I don't think so. My nose is still sore from when you bit me first thing this morning," he says in mock-chastisement.

Milly giggles and goes back to smacking him on the cheeks. Gently, he grasps her around both tiny wrists with his thumb and forefinger and then kisses her on the hand.

"That's enough of that for now. Bella's going to teach you how to swim."

Both Edward and Milly look over and smile at me.

*_Kaboom_*

Lemme guess… right ovary?

**({'})** _Yup._

"Okay, just watch James and Laurent, so you can copy the actions. Do you know how to sing, '_Five Little Ducks_'?" I ask, my voice sounding somewhat squeaky.

"Sure do," he replies.

We start to sing and move in a circle.

**Five little ducks went out one day**  
><strong>Over the hills and far away…<strong>

Edward _'his-smile-makes-me-spontaneously-ovulate'_ Cullen has an incredible singing voice, and it does strange things to my body. I know that I am wetter than ever because even when I am standing waist high in a pool of water, I can usually hear Libby's voice. However, right now… all I can hear is a gargling sound.


	18. Chapter 18

We continue our lesson and the three dads and babies are all having a wonderful time. Little Milly, it seems, is having an absolute ball, and she is just so cute; I want to eat her all up. Not that I advocate the cannibalization of small babies; but you know what I mean. Milly is utterly edible, and at the first opportunity, I _'nom-nom-nom_' her chubby little forearm. She squeals and giggles and in turn Edward laughs melodically.

Meanwhile, Libby is attempting to resuscitate my exhausted ovaries. For the most part, she's remained silent, but occasionally ekes out a small whimper.

All too soon, it's time for the end of the lesson. Moving in a circle, we sing the last song.

**Ring a ring a roses  
>A pocket full of posies,<strong>  
><strong>A-tishoo! A-tishoo!<br>We all fall down.**

The fathers quickly but gently dunk their kids under the surface of the water. Poor little Milly resurfaces looking panicked, and she begins to cry. Watching Milly's bottom lip quivering in despair is heartbreaking, and Edward steps out of the circle to comfort her.

**Picking up the daisies,**  
><strong>Picking up the daisies,<strong>  
><strong>A-tishoo! A-tishoo!<strong>  
><strong>We all jump up.<strong>

James and Laurent lift their babies high into the air, and they let out a shriek of joy. Laurent even tosses Bree into the air a little and catches her safely.

Once again, I take hold of the babies and give them a little cuddle as I say, "Bye-bye," while their dads are getting out of the pool. Laurent is the first to leave, closely followed by James. They pass Bree and Riley off to their respective mothers, and after gathering their belongings, they head for the mens changing room. Edward is the last to get out, and as he passes Milly to me, I get a closer look at the tattoo on his inner bicep. In an elegant script, there are three words that appear to be in latin.

_qui audet adipiscitur_**_._**

I pass Milly back to Edward, who is concerned, because Milly still seems a little upset, although she's calmed down considerably. I'm quick to reassure him that it is a common occurrence for babies to be a little upset at some time during the first few lessons, but they soon acclimate to having their faces in the water.

He nods in understanding and says, "Thank you, Bella," before turning and placing Milly into the towel that Rosalie holds up, so she can bundle Milly inside it. As Rosalie is adjusting Milly's body to hold her more easily within the towel, her ring snags on a thread. Rosalie tries to free herself, but is unable to do so without Edward's help. After detangling Rosalie, he searches through the diaper bag and pulls out a towel and a leather toiletries bag. After picking up his clothes, he heads off to the changing room.

When I look back at Rosalie, I note she is glancing down with concern at her left hand, or more specifically, at the large diamond engagement ring that is flanked on one side by a diamond encrusted wedding band.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Tattoo translation - _qui audet adipiscitur_ = he who dares wins. (Military motto)**


	19. Chapter 19

I'm standing in one of the three shower cubicles, impatiently waiting for the water to heat up. I take off my swim shirt, and I'm about to strip out of my bathing suit when I realize the hot water is just not happening. I check the other two cubicles and sinks and quickly discover there is no hot water in the changing room at all. Wrapping a towel around my chest and tucking it securely under my armpits, I storm off to yell at Joe because the hot water is on the fritz – again.

"When are you going to get a real plumber in to fix the hot water? That cousin of yours couldn't fix a bend in a flexible straw, let alone fix the damn pipes!" I gripe.

Standing on the other side of the reception desk are Edward and Rosalie Cullen. Rosalie is filling out a customer index card, and Edward is cradling an exhausted looking Milly. Joe rolls his eyes and moves toward the office door.

"Bella here will fix you up. I just need to sort out this water situation, or I'll never hear the end of it. I'll see you folks next week."

I give Joe the Bella bitch-brow, and he chuckles at me as he leaves.

Asshole.

"There was plenty of hot water in the men's room," Edward says helpfully, "maybe you could shower in there."

"Yeah, I don't think so. With no doors on the cubicles, anyone could walk in on me, and they'd see what I was offering," I retort jokingly.

Had I blinked, I would have missed it, but I just caught Edward's momentary glance at my cleavage, which is prominently on display, front and center, thanks to the towel that is squishing my boobs together. When our gazes lock, he blushes like a teenage boy, and my nipples begin to tingle.

**({'}) **_What the-?_


	20. Chapter 20

I look back at Rosalie who has filled out the index card and is sliding it across the desk to me.

I carefully check the details.

**_Full name and current age of child_**_ – Emily Rose Cullen - 8 months_

**_Name and current age of Parent/ Guardian #1_**_ - Rosalie Cullen – 29 y/o_

**_Name and current age of Parent/ Guardian #2_**_ - Edward Cullen – 27 y/o_

**_List any medical conditions or regularly prescribed medications – if not applicable write 'N/A' - _**_N/A_

**_Address of Parent/ Guardian #1_**_ - 7241 Lighthouse Lane, Olympia, WA, 98506_

I know that area. I've probably paddled past that home. Lighthouse Lane is in Boston Harbor, close to the marina. In the summer months, Alice and I often hire kayaks and paddle along the various inlets throughout Puget Sound, and we enviously drool at the stunning homes.

**_Address of Parent/ Guardian #2 - If same as Parent/ Guardian #1, write 'As above'. _**

_As above._


	21. Chapter 21

I check the back of the index card and then point out to Rosalie that she's forgotten to include their contact numbers, email address, or indicated if they'd like to subscribe to the center's monthly newsletter. Rosalie fills in the rest.

The Cullens are obviously loaded. If the dazzling boulder on Rosalie's ring finger didn't already give it away, the address certainly would have. Boston Harbor is a very affluent area. Even so, I have to promote the swim-ticket as it reduces the amount of cash we hold on the premises. Last year, someone tried to hold up the center. Alice chased them off with a baseball bat. I pick up the blue card.

"Buy a ten-session ticket on your credit card, and you'll save time and money. It's a ten percent discount, and when you come for your lessons, you just get the card stamped and go through to the pool. It also entitles you to a free public swimming session, or else Rosalie might like to attend an aqua aerobic or aqua zumba session."

Edward chuckles. "Good luck with that. If you can get Rosalie into a pool, it'll be a miracle. Anything deeper than a basic bathtub terrifies her. At home, we have an outdoor Jacuzzi and a pool that she refuses to get into."

"Shut up, Edward. If you'd nearly drowned as a child, you'd be terrified of the water, too."


	22. Chapter 22

"You're not gonna grow up being scared of the water, are you?" Edward says and gives Milly a kiss on the forehead.

"Aaaanyway," Rosalie drawls, "we'll take a card."

"Mum deposited some money in my account the other day for Milly. She said wanted to buy something for Milly while she was away, so I think the money should go toward something practical like these swimming lessons instead of stuffed toys or clothes that she's never gonna get around to wearing before she outgrows them. Can you grab my wallet out of my back pocket, Rosie? My hands are full."

"Esme spoils Milly so much. Spoils me, too," Rosalie says as she opens Edward's wallet and hands me a credit card.

"Mum says you're the daughter she never had, and the day Milly was born was one of the best in her life. Of course, the day_ I_ was born was _the best_."

Rosalie rolls her eyes. "Hey Bella? Is this room getting smaller? Oh, sorry, my mistake. It's just his big, fat head taking up so much space! Geez… talk about a bloody ego!" She laughs.

He grins. "Shut it, Harpy! That's enough from you." He passes Milly over to Rosalie. "Just let me sign the receipt so we can get out of Bella's hair. The poor girl is on her way to getting hypothermia."

While my skin is indeed covered in goose-flesh, it's certainly not due to the cold. Once again, Edward's eyes stray south of my face. However, this time I pretend not to notice.

A part of me likes it when he looks at me.

I know I shouldn't, but I do.


	23. Chapter 23

**_The following Sunday - 3rd June 2012 - 9.15am_**

There must be some sort of virus going around because numbers at the center are down today. Joe had multiple cancellations this morning, and for my 9.00am session, all three parents called in to say their babies or their parents were too sick to swim. I've used the opportunity to grab a coffee, and I take a seat on the bench near the Sharks lane. Alice is standing by the pool, yelling out instructions to the kids who are performing a medley race.

_Backstroke._ _Breaststroke. Butterfly. Freestyle._

"What do you know about the Cullens?" I ask.

"Not much, just a little."

"Did you know they live in Boston Harbor?"

"Yeah, Rosalie mentioned it when we first met last week. You know that house you like with the shingles and the round windows on the second floor; the one at the tip of Budd Inlet?"

"You mean near the Dofflemyer Point lighthouse?"

"Yeah. Well, that's Edward's mom's house. There was some sort of family tragedy about four or five months back, and they flew over from the U.K. to live with his mom."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Not exactly, just that someone was killed in an accident."


	24. Chapter 24

**_11.29am_**

**A-tishoo! A-tishoo!**  
><strong>We all jump up.<strong>

Thank God. End of the lesson.

As I hold Jane at arm's length, I wait and watch as her father gets out of the pool. Taking in the sight of Aro's hairy back, I once again give thanks to the pool gods known as 'Jandy' and 'Versa Plumb', for the continuous filtration functions they bestow upon us.

Remarkably, evil baby Jane hasn't managed to foul her swim diaper this time. She must have some mind-reading ability because I was deathly serious about the cork. During a moment of distraction, however, she did manage to sink her little fangs into the side of my neck. I think she may have even drawn blood to the surface. Since I do have a tendency towards bruising easily, I should probably start taking a multivitamin or something.

James and Riley are absent from the final lesson of the day, so I only have Laurent and Edward with Bree and Milly. Rosalie looks absolutely stunning. She's wearing a pale-yellow sun-dress that looks so pretty. With her sun-kissed skin tone and long, golden hair, she appears to glow. Smiling broadly, she places Milly into my arms.

Today, Edward is wearing navy-blue shorts, and when he removes them, I actually do a double-take.

At first, I mistakenly believe he's just standing there in a pair of boxer briefs, but as he removes his t-shirt and turns to the front, I spy the Adidas logo on the left thigh.

They are actually tight, black swim shorts.

Tight.

And black.

And did I mention they are tight?

Oh, yeah.

**({'})** _One, two, three… four._

What are you doing?

**({'})** _I'm making sure the babies have all of their arms accounted for, because Holy…_

Shit!

**({'})** _Oops_. _Busted_.

Edward raises a single eyebrow at me.

Because yeah… he totally just caught me staring at his crotch.


	25. Chapter 25

Edward wades toward me with his arms outstretched. While I fantasize it's because he is about to hold me in a tight embrace, reality tells me that it's Milly he actually wants. As he draws near, I see his eyes flick down, stopping in the vicinity of my neck. Inexplicably, his jaw tightens and his eyes convey a brief flash of pain, which he quickly extinguishes as soon as he grabs Milly from my hands.

Weird.

**({'})** _Look at his left hand._

Why?

**({'}) **_Just do it._

Wow! Look how long his fingers are. I bet-

**({'})** _Will you please focus?_

I see nothing out of the ordinary.

**({'})** _What else aren't you seeing? _

**({'})** _Think hard._

**({'})** _Oh, for fuck sake! It rhymes with 'sing'._

Oh! Well, not all married men wear a wedding ring…

**({'})** _If you had a husband as hot as Edward, would you let him out of the house without a wedding ring?_

If he were _mine_, I'd have his ring finger tattooed with '_Property of Bella'_. And then a matching tattoo just above his-

**({'})** _Exactly. I mean you've seen how he looks at you. So maybe there's still hope that Rosalie is, in fact, his Sister-In-Law._

Yeah. Maybe…

As Edward walks away from me, I stare at his ass, because – damn! Tight.

Shit!

**({'})** _Busted again._

Edward smiles. It's a panty dropper, and then... he fucking winks at me.

*boom*

*boom*

**({'})** _*gurgle*_


	26. Chapter 26

**_11.47am_**

**Hands in the air, rock-a-bye your bear**  
><strong>Bear's now asleep. Shh Shh Shh!<strong>  
><strong>Bear's now asleep Shh Shh Shh!<strong>

Someone cries out in anguish from the girls changeroom.

"EDWARD!" It's Rosalie. I can't recall her even leaving the bench.

For most of the lesson, she's been in friendly conversation with Irina. Edward's head snaps around immediately to ascertain her whereabouts. It all happens so fast. Milly is thrust into my arms, and he frantically scrambles out of the pool. Despite the '_Don't Run_' signs all over the walls, he sprints toward the changeroom in a blur. I look over at Irina, who appears to be just as confused as I am.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – The next few chapters may be difficult for some people to read due to their subject matter.**


	27. Chapter 27

Moving to the side of the pool with Milly, I see Edward when he reemerges. He runs back to the bench, and after grabbing the massive diaper bag, he frantically searches through it and pulls out his wallet.

Taking out two one-hundred-dollar bills, he tosses them at Irina, and says, "If it's not enough, I'll pay you the rest at the next lesson," and he snatches up Irina's black sweater. Turning to address me, he says, "Bella, I need to ask a huge favor. Can you please dry and change Milly for me? Rosie needs me." Moving back to the bench, he grabs his shorts, shoes, and T-shirt.

Feeling dumbfounded, I nod in reply, but Edward is already off and running, carrying the bundle of clothes which includes Irina's sweater.


	28. Chapter 28

Irina approaches and I pass Milly to her so I can get out of the pool. After wrapping my towel around me, I pick up the diaper bag, and Irina takes Milly over to one of the change tables. We search the bag and find everything needed to change Milly. I pass the towel and diaper to Irina, and she moves swiftly. She's had a lot more practice at changing babies than I have. Milly is smiling at us, oblivious to what is going on.

"I think Rosalie might be miscarrying," Irina says sadly.

"She's pregnant? How do you know?" I ask as I pass her Milly's pink and white polka-dot shorts.

"Last week, Rosalie told me and Vicki that she was ten weeks pregnant."

As I help to pull Milly's arms through the sleeves of her white t-shirt, I start to feel sick. Edward emerges from the change rooms with Rosalie cradled in his arms. She has her hands around his neck, and her face is buried into his chest.

I'm sad and confused.

Rosalie is sobbing, and even though the sweater is tied around her waist, I can see a palm-sized bloodstain on the back of her pale-yellow dress.


	29. Chapter 29

With Milly dressed and ready, I quickly strap her into her pushchair. Irina tosses everything back into the diaper bag, including Edward's $200, and she slings the bag over my shoulder. I hurriedly run for the glass doors, propelling the pushchair as fast as I can, to catch up with Edward as he rushes out the main door of the center. As we run toward their car, I pick up pieces of their conversation.

"What are we going to do? Esme's in London, so who can we ask to look after Milly? I don't want Milly hanging around the Emergency Room all afternoon. She needs a nap and lunch. You know she won't sleep anywhere else but her crib."

"I'll ring Mrs. Cope. I'll ask if she can meet us at the hospital. I'm sure she'd love to look after Milly again. It's gonna be okay."

"I'm scared."

"I'll be there with you. I won't leave your side."

"What if I lose the baby?"

"Then we'll do it again."

"But you said-"

"I know. It was said in the moment, but I didn't mean it. I'll do anything for you; you know this."

"I do. I'd be so lost without you. Love you, Ed."

"Love you too, Rosie."


	30. Chapter 30

Edward kisses Rosalie on the temple and I see a single tear as it rolls down his cheek. It's obvious he's trying to be strong for her, but I can see his heart is breaking.

We arrive at their car, which is a black, seven-seater, Volvo SUV/Crossover. It looks to be the latest model, of course.

"Do you think you can stand?"

Rosalie nods and he gently lowers her feet to the ground. Fumbling in one of the pockets of the diaper bag that is still slung over my shoulder, he finds the keys and opens the front passenger door. With great care, he helps her into the seat. Rosalie places her hand protectively over her abdomen, and then the door is shut. With the practiced hands of someone who has performed the task many times over, he unclasps the baby capsule from the pushchair and secures it into a corresponding base that rests on a seat in the middle row. He then moves the remaining part of the pushchair to the rear of the car, and I follow. With a click and a lift, the pushchair folds in half, and he stows it into the luggage space. Taking the diaper bag off my shoulder, he stores it next to the pushchair.

"Thanks for your help, Bella. I really appreciate it. We'll let you know if we can be here next week."

"Sure. No problem. I really hope Rosalie and the baby will be okay."

"Me too," he says sadly.


	31. Chapter 31

The Volvo squeals out of the parking lot, and I'm left standing alone.

While I feel an acute ache in my chest for Rosalie, the rest of me feels kind of numb. As I walk back into the center, I run into Laurent, Irina, and Bree. There's no one manning the reception desk. Laurent and Bree are already dressed in their regular clothes.

_How long was I standing there in the parking lot?_

"Sorry about the lesson being cut short. I'll make a note on the booking sheet, and the next lesson will be free," I say, picking up a pen.

"Don't worry about it. It couldn't be helped. I just hope Rosalie is okay. Unfortunately, I know exactly what she's going through." Irina looks at Laurent and a sad expression passes between them.

"Okay then. I'll see you all next week. Bye-bye, Bree." I take her little hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.

-oo0oo-

Thankfully, there was plenty of hot water in the changing room showers today. As I brush the tangles from my hair while standing in front of the mirror, Libby appears on my shoulder. She's dressed in a black Victorian mourning dress that includes a weeping veil.

"That's a little extreme don't you think? It's not as though Edward was available to us in the first place."

**({'})**

"So what… you're not talking to me now? Is that it?"

**({'})**

I look closer in the mirror. "What on earth is that thing you're wearing? Is that- is that a mourning brooch?"

**({'})**

"Please tell me that's not a lock of Edward's hair in there. I don't even want to think about where that came from."

**({'})**

"You're being ridiculous. Edward and Rosalie are in the middle of something awful, and all you can do is think about yourself. He was never ours… and never will be. End of discussion."

**({'})**

"Besides… there are plenty of fish in the sea."

Libby abruptly flips her veil back and whines.

**({'}) **_But I don't want a fish. I want a man! I wanted **that** man!_

**({'})**_ And besides – you totally suck at fishing!_


	32. Chapter 32

**_1.00pm._**

It's times like these that I used to turn to my best friend – cigarettes.

However, considering I have a job that involves dealing with people who have suffered from strokes and head and neck tumors (largely thanks to the cancer sticks) I decided to stop being a big hypocrite, and I quit.

Hardest fucking year of my life.

Alice nearly disowned me. Actually, she kind of did. We used to live together.

At one point, she even drove to the store and bought me a pack because I was being, "Such a grouchy bitch." Alice said I was behaving like someone who had PMS 24/7.

I called her, "A pushy little dwarf with a Napoleon complex." Don't judge me. My nicotine starved brain couldn't think of a wittier comeback at the time. Alice moved out. I think we both agreed it was for the best, and we remained friends.

Thankfully, I discovered a replacement addiction. Double-dark chocolate, alcoholic-laced, triple choc-dipped fudgesicles. I make them myself. Inside my freezer, I have six extra-large, Irish Cream fudgesicles just waiting for me. Even from the driveway, I can hear them calling my name.

My ass and thighs will probably pay the price. I already have a dimple or two. I'm always too scared to clench my butt cheeks just in case the dimples manage to draw satellites and small planets out of their orbits like a black hole. Yes, I check out my own ass in the mirror. Honestly, what woman doesn't?

It's not because I'm fat that I have a bit of cellulite. I'm basically just too busy to tone up with regular exercise. At least, that's the excuse I give. Actually, I'm lazy and unmotivated. I'm skinny/fat. Untoned and soft. I believe Destiny's Child refer to it as '_jelly_', and yeah, I'm a bit wobbly in parts.

I open the freezer, and it's times like these that I'm really glad my swim shirt comes down past the juncture of my butt and thighs.


	33. Chapter 33

**_Wednesday morning - June 6th 2012 - 10.00am._**

Thanks to a power outage this morning, not only did I wake up late for work, I was also unable to make myself a pot of coffee. I've tried to stave off the caffeine withdrawal headache by drinking lots of water, but all that is achieving is frequent trips to the bathroom. The newbie speech therapy student I'm mentoring must think I suffer from bladder-control issues.

Actually, I have no problems in that department. While I shun most other forms of exercise, Kegel exercises for the pelvic floor are something I do quite religiously. It's one of the many repercussions of having a vagina like Libby. She's quite the taskmistress.

**({'})** _…and a one and two and three and four and five, and relax and two and three and four and five, and contract and two and three and four and five… don't forget to breathe… and relax and two and three…_

And so here I am… I'm standing in line, waiting to order a tall-quadruple-espresso macchiato, and I'm doing Kegels.

The old woman in front of me is paying for her $10 purchase with nickels and dimes. By the time she's done counting out her coins, Libby will most likely be able to grip a two-pound vaginal barbell, or at the very least, she'll be able to crack walnuts.

The other hospital employees behind me are going insane. They too are champing at the bit for their morning caffeine fix. To be honest, I really should start taking better care of my body by ridding myself of my various addictions. I'm thirty, and soon my body is going to start hating me more than it already does. Last Sunday's self-induced diabetic/alcoholic coma was a prime example.

I've already successfully tackled cigarettes, and by rights, I should be moving on to something else - such as my addictions to double-dark chocolate, alcoholic-laced, triple choc-dipped fudgesicles, and strong coffee. However, I'm weak.

Instead, I've decided to give up watching porn. As it was, I used to watch it with the sound turned right down, because honestly, the noises some of those porn actresses make are bordering on the hilarious. I mean honestly; who sounds like that in real life?

**({'})** _That's because no one has ever banged you that hard in real-life… _

True… sad, but true.

I can no longer watch women's tennis with the sound on, either. Once, I came home early from work and mistakenly thought my asshole ex, Eric, was watching porn. It turns out he was watching a tennis match between Maria Sharapova and Michelle Larcher de Brito.

Two years ago, Eric and I amicably broke up. And by _amicably_, what I actually mean is that I came home early one day and found him balls deep in the ass of another guy. While it's mildly entertaining to witness two hot guys going at it when watching porn – in real-life… yeah… not so much.


	34. Chapter 34

It really is a bit of a blow to the ol' ego when you find out your fiancé prefers dick and you don't own any of the right equipment. And it was, therefore, no small wonder that he had refused to go down on me – like ever – no matter how much I begged and pleaded. Then Eric and I decided we probably shouldn't be together anymore.

And when I say, '_We decided_,' what I actually mean is that I tossed all of his precious designer suits onto the front lawn with the bed mattress and set fire to them. Eric then called me, '_A crazy bitch_,' and moved out to live with his fuck buddy, Alistair.

Un-fucking-believable. The old lady has only managed to count out about $5 in change. If I had more money with me, I'd be tempted to pay for her purchases myself, just so I can get to the front of the line to order. I may have to resort to drastic measures, such as body-tackling the old woman and tossing her over my shoulder, or even worse – using the coffee vending machine in the foyer.

**({'})** _Wow! Speaking of things that are bangin'!_

Suddenly, worlds collide, because Edward _'you-make-my-nipples-tingle'_ Cullen is now standing right next to me.

Edward.

Edward in a suit.

Edward in a well-fitted, black business suit.

A suit… goddamnit! My own personal brand of Kryptonite.

"Good morning, Bella."

**({'})** _Don't forget to breathe_...

"Um… Hi, Edward. What are you doing here?"


	35. Chapter 35

"You know I almost didn't recognize you. You look so different with your hair down and your clothes on," Edward says cheerfully.

All conversations in the tiny cafeteria seem to stop.

Someone cues the crickets.

*_chirp chirp chirp chirp_*

Ten pairs of eyes turn to judge me, including 'coin lady' who looks me up and down with disdain. They are probably trying to ascertain if I am some sort of professional call-girl.

"Um… that kind of came out the wrong way didn't it? What I meant to say is that I've only ever seen you in your swimming instructor uniform. You look really different. Nice," he says exaggeratedly for the benefit of those around us.

I'm wearing a white women's business shirt with a charcoal-grey pencil skirt and black heels. Although most of my hair is down, I've pulled the front strands of my hair back with a barrette that has three red gerbera daisies on it. My hospital I.D. badge is hanging around my neck from a lanyard. It should be patently obvious I'm not a hooker.

A few of the bystanders are mollified by Edward's explanation, and they go back to their own lives. Some, like the old lady and the cashier, are not so easily convinced. I'll bet they've both lost count of the coins now. Fuck. I'll never get a coffee at this rate. Sadly, I just may have to kill Edward Cullen. My fingers start to twitch.

I'm sorry, mister, but this is gonna hurt you, more than it hurts me because caffeine withdrawal is a perfectly plausible excuse for homicide. I just need to think of a clever place to hide the body. Hmm.

**({'})** _What about the morgue?_

Of course! I work in a hospital. Duh! Why didn't I think of that? Oh, I know; it's because I need caffeine!

I turn to face him properly, and it's then that I notice he's carrying Milly in his arms. Clearly, he's a brilliant tactician. He's holding a human shield.

Damn... It seems I've been foiled by a weapon of mass seduction.


	36. Chapter 36

"You didn't answer my question, Edward."

"Oh… We're just about to visit Mummy, aren't we, baby girl," he says directing his answer at Milly. "Are you gonna wave and say, 'Hi,' to Bella?"

Milly is giving Edward a dubious expression as if to say, "_What do you think I am? A sideshow act? A ventriloquist's dummy? You're on your own here, buddy_."

"No? Oh well..." He kisses her on the forehead and then turns his gaze toward me again. "Rosie's still in the obstetric unit, but with some luck, she should be coming home later today. We're just waiting on another scan to see if the blood clot between the placenta and the uterus has been absorbed."

"So, the baby's okay then?"

"Yeah. Still hanging in there, thank God. They say Rosie will just need to take it easy for a few weeks, and they'll scan her regularly to keep an eye on things."

With outstretched arms and hands, Milly suddenly launches the upper half of her body in my direction. A reflex reaction causes me to take two steps forward and lunge to grab a hold of her, just in case she falls out of Edward's arms. Not that I believe for one single second that he would ever allow her to fall.

Milly chooses that moment to find her voice. "Bewba," Milly babbles, and then she rests her forehead on my shoulder and nuzzles against my collarbone. With both of us holding onto Milly, Edward and I are barely inches apart. It's then that I catch the scent of his cologne.

**({'}) **_Oh, this man does not fight fair._


	37. Chapter 37

This scent.

I know this scent.

Bergamot, basil, grapefruit, ginger, cardamom, cedar, ambergris and tobacco.

Oriental and woody. Manly. It's as if they've managed to bottle male sex pheromones.

I want to douse my sheets in it, strip, and then writhe around naked on the bed, just like a cat in a shoe box full of catnip.

It's my favorite. Dolce And Gabbana – "The One." It's the kind of scent that when you smell it on a man, you instantly want to shove him into a corner and tear all of his clothes off. And if that corner happens to be in an empty elevator or a stairwell, then so be it, because you simply cannot restrain yourself long enough to make it back to your place, his place, or a hotel room.

Meanwhile, Edward breathes in deeply and murmurs a barely audible, "_Lovely_," before shaking his head slightly as if to wake up from a hypnotic trance. Clearly, he's a connoisseur of women's perfume, and I have to wonder how he came by such knowledge.

**({'})** _His wife probably wears this scent, too._

I can feel my skin flush, and I just know the bright-pink hue of my neck and cleavage is flaming in stark contrast against the white fabric of my shirt.

Remembering that his daughter was just about to go '_nom nom_' on my nipple, he finally apologizes. "Um… sorry about that… Obviously, someone is due for a feed," he says, directing his gaze at my chest once again as he pulls Milly upright and readjusts her on his hip.

Yeah… something tells me that Edward_ 'smells-like-sex'_ Cullen is undeniably a 'boob man.' And where once upon a time, there was a tiny smidgeon of hope that Rosalie was just his sister or sister-in-law, I again recall the conversation I overheard that had dashed my hopes.

"How about I take Milly up to Rosie, and then we'll have a coffee; it'll be my treat."

And then cue the patented panty-dropper smile.

No. Just… no.

I can't do this. I don't like men who cheat. I will not be complicit in an affair with a married man. I would never put Rosalie through the same thing I went through with Eric - no matter how compelling my attraction towards Edward seems to be. I would never break up a family.

I have a feeling Edward knows exactly what he's doing with that smile, and I need to get away, fast. Wow! What a slimy bastard. This guy is just a cocky son-of-a-bitch who probably thinks he can get any woman he wants. He's nothing but a scoundrel, a bounder, a rotter, a rascal, a rogue, and a heel.

I pull out my pager from the waistband of my skirt and stare at it as if it holds the answers to life, the universe, and everything. "I'm so sorry, I have to go. I've just been paged."

He looks confused. "I didn't hear a pager beep."

"Oh… It's on silent, it just vibrates."

"I see."

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

And of course my stupid pager chooses that exact moment to alarm loudly like a fucking klaxon, making me look like the liar I am.

_This is awkward_.

"Okay, I guess we'll just see you on Sunday then," he says resignedly. He looks a little hurt. I guess there aren't too many women on the planet who could say, 'No,' to Edward Cullen.

As I walk away I look at my pager. It's the Outpatient Clinic wondering where the hell I am, and thanks to 'Coin Lady' and Edward, I never did manage to get my damn coffee.


	38. Chapter 38

**_Sunday… again - June 10th 2012 - 11.30am_**

**The baby on the bus says,**  
><strong>I love you, I love you, I love you.<strong>  
><strong>The daddy on the bus says, I love you, too,<strong>  
><strong>All through the town.<strong>

During the Daddy and Waterbabe classes, I've made it a habit to change the lyrics of the last verse of, "The Wheels On The Bus," by taking out the reference to the 'mommy' and replacing it with 'baby'. Although Mike never says anything, I know he secretly appreciates it. He's still hurting over the way Lauren left them both a year ago.

Today was a good lesson. Even Jane _'Hannibal Lecter_' Volturi behaved herself. However, I think she may be plotting something now that I'm on to her game. Revenge being a dish best served cold and all that...

Although the session has ended, and the dads from the 11.00am group are all out of the pool, none of the participants for the next class have arrived. Laurent and Edward should be here by now. They should already be changed and about to get in the pool.

I knew at the beginning of the day that James and Riley had canceled again. Vicky had explained that James was sick with a cold virus. Apparently, one of the perils of having kids is that they love to share their germs with the rest of the family, and consequently, James was, 'On his deathbed, with a severe case of Man-Flu.'

Just as I am about to give up waiting, an unfamiliar woman appears at the door with a very familiar Orbit-Baby pushchair. She is carrying Rosalie's designer, leather diaper bag over one shoulder. She walks toward us, and I can see an excited Milly waving her arms about at a toy that is dangling from the canopy of her pushchair. As she draws near, she smiles and introduces herself.

"Hi, I'm Esme, Edward's mom. Are you Bella?"

I nod.

Unlike Edward and Rosalie, I note Esme doesn't have much of an English accent. She's American.

"Sorry we're late, but I was waiting outside for the boys. I had to call them, in the end, and Edward said to apologize and to tell you that he and my nephew, Jasper, should be along shortly. It seems they just lost track of the time."

Esme moves over to the changing table and proceeds to strip off Milly's clothing.

"Bye, Bella," Karen Newton says as she carries Tyler towards the exit.

"Bye, Karen. See you next week," I reply cheerfully.

Rather than following his mom, Mike pauses to stoop down by the edge of the pool.

"Um… Bella?" he begins, and I know what is coming.


	39. Chapter 39

This morning, Alice had begged and pleaded with me to go out with Mike, and reluctantly I agreed to accept. But it's only because I feel sorry for the guy - and he's paying.

"I don't know if Alice mentioned it, but she and I were supposed to go out to dinner on Saturday night to catch up, and then we had plans to see a movie."

"Yes, she did mention it. She also told me this morning that she unexpectedly had to cancel on you due to a family thing."

I had sensed it was a set up the moment Alice had told me the dinner reservation was at Xinh's. Xinh's Clam and Oyster House is one of my favorite restaurants. It was the proverbial carrot on the stick for me.

Alice had told me how lonely Mike was and how next Saturday was a rare opportunity for him to go out on a weekend. Karen, his mom, normally works on Saturday and Sunday nights, but she has the weekend off and is able to babysit Tyler. Apparently, it's been well over four months since Mike has been out of the house in the evening. After hearing the sob story, I promised Alice that if Mike plucked up the courage to ask me out, then I'd say, "Yes." I was going to get Alice off my back about going on a date with Mike once and for all.

"Yeah… well, I was wondering… would you like to go out to dinner… with… me? It's just that I haven't canceled the booking, and to be honest…," he leans in closer to whisper, "…I really need to get out of the house for one night with some adult company that isn't my mom."

And cue the puppy-dog eyes. Yeah, Alice warned me about those bad boys too.

Esme crouches down next to Mike and hands Milly to me. "Bewba! Bewba!" Milly squeals excitedly.

"Um… sure, Mike. Saturday night sounds great. I love eating at Xinh's, and I haven't been to the cinema in ages."

Mike's face lights up with a smile. He also looks very relieved. "Great! So, I'll pick you up from your place at seven?"

Just then I see a man, whom I assume to be Jasper, striding through the door from the reception area. He is tall with shoulder-length, shaggy blonde hair and is wearing black jeans, black motorcycle boots and a black Heuer Le Mans racing jacket. Under his arm, he is carrying a black-and-white helmet and a pair of leather gloves. He surveys the pool area and when he spies Esme, he smiles cheerily. When he sees me, he smiles curiously. And when he locks gazes with Alice, who is standing on the edge of the pool at the deep end as she reels in the lane ropes, he gives her a slow, sexy smile.

Sweet. Jesus.

Momentarily distracted by Jasper, Alice nearly overbalances into the pool.

**({'})** _Oh this is going to be fun!_

Hmm. Interesting.


	40. Chapter 40

**({'})** _Um… did you get that? That guy totally just gave Ali the patented panty-dropper smile! It's just like Edward's!_

Yup.

**({'}) **_I'm thinking it must be a trade secret for the men of that family._

Certainly looks like it.

Esme moves back to the diaper bag and pulls out what appears to be a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She walks up to Jasper, and she has her own version of the bitch-brow happening.

He looks sheepish, gives her a kiss on the cheek and says, "You can blame your son." Esme looks past him to find Edward.

Jasper heads off to the mens changing room clutching the clothes.

The glass doors swing open, and Edward _'panty-destroyer'_ Cullen appears. The clouds part, the sun shines down upon him, and choirs of angels begin to sing 'The Hallelujah Chorus' from Handels 'Messiah'.

Okay, not really…

In reality, it's just Libby humming 'Personal Jesus' by Depeche Mode.

He's wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a retro Lotus racing jacket in chestnut-brown leather.

**({'})** _*glug*_

In his left hand, he's holding a black helmet, and in his right hand, he's holding a bouquet of flowers that are wrapped in silver paper. He gives his mom a hug, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek. While they are hugging and speaking, quietly, Edward glances in my direction, but only gives me a small, tight smile. He then hands the flowers to Esme.

"Err… Bella?" A hand passes back and forth across my vision. It's then I realize Mike has been trying to communicate with me. "Is seven a good time to pick you up? It'll give us time to allow for traffic and to find a parking space."

Realizing I'm being rude, I turn and look at Mike. "Sounds good to me. I'll be ready and waiting."

Mike's face lights up again. "Great. I'll see you then," he says, and he stands and moves back from the edge of the pool.

When I look back to where Edward was standing with Esme, I discover he's gone. Esme is heading back to the bench closest to the ladder with the bouquet of flowers in her hand.

**({'})** _Where did he go?_

I don't know.

**({'})** _Why isn't he getting in the pool today?_

When Esme sits down I can see the flowers within the silver paper a little better.

"My son is always so thoughtful," Esme says smiling. "He knows how the color red always cheers me up. Aren't these flowers lovely?"

Red Gerbera Daisies. My favorite.

**({'})** _Something tells me those flowers were actually meant for us._

And there's a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Yeah… I have a funny feeling you may be right.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Remove brackets to get the link to work (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/EandJ-jackets**


	41. Chapter 41

Jasper exits the men's changeroom, and I have to laugh. He's wearing a pair of baggy, black board-shorts that come down past his knees. He is also wearing a black and white, horizontally striped, long-sleeved t-shirt. The extreme contrast between what Jasper is wearing and what Edward wore last week is almost comical.

As he nears the ladder, he looks at Esme, does a double-take, and shakes his head. He then looks at me with an expression I can't fully comprehend. Jasper eases himself into the water and wades over to Milly and me. While Jasper was changing, I put a pair of water-wings onto Milly's upper arms, and I've been floating her on her back and moving her around the pool.

As I look into her sweet, little face, I note she has some features that are very much like Rosalie, but her eyes are similar in appearance to Edward's. I look up at Esme and note that she too has the same eye shape. Esme's eyes are a rich sea-green color, the same as Edwards. Milly's eyes are dark blue.

"So, this must be Bella, the one I've been hearing all about," Jasper states, as if I'm a hot topic of conversation.

"And you must be the notorious Jasper. The one who… um… sorry… I've never heard of you."

Jasper chuckles.

"Well, for a start you can stop calling me Jasper. Call me Jazz; all my friends do. Only my mom and Aunt Esme over there call me Jasper. I'm pretty sure they just do it because they know how much it pisses me off."

"Swear jar, Jasper Lee Whitlock Hale! Mind your language in front of the baby!" Esme admonishes.

I can't work out if Esme is being funny or deathly serious. "Man, she just middle-named you. And seriously; one of your names is Whitlock?" I giggle.

"Yeah, that's enough out of you, old woman." He mock-scowls at Esme.

"Don't go thinking that you're too old to go over my knee, young man!" she says with both eyebrows raised in challenge. There is a silent, five-second stand-off before Jazz and Esme laugh and leave the issue behind.

I pass Milly over to Jazz and encourage him to continue floating her on her back while I take hold of her ankles and flutter-kick them in the water. Milly laughs delightedly until a few drops of water land on her forehead, which momentarily startles her and causes her to wiggle and roll to one side. Jazz quickly controls her movements and then wipes the water from her face.

We continue doing various movements through the water with Milly, using a variety of toys and props. With only Jazz and me in the water, I've decided not to bother with singing the usual songs. We talk instead.

Ali has been hanging around the pool area for a lot longer than normal. While it is customary for her to put the equipment away before the center opens in the afternoon for public swimming, she usually doesn't go quite so far as to organize the colorful pool noodles into their storage bins according to color and their position on the rainbow spectrum.

_Red.  
>Orange.<br>Yellow.  
>Green.<br>Blue.  
>Purple.<em>

Alice looks at me, and I smirk.

"_Lucky bitch_," she mouths.

I give her the sneaky middle finger and mouth, "_Sucks to be you_."

We poke tongues at each other and Jazz catches on. It's kind of obvious we are engaged in one of those silent conversations that best friends have, and we are talking about him. It's also obvious that Alice is really into this guy. It's just a pity he's fully clothed because even through the wet material of his long-sleeve shirt, I can see something that may make Alice spontaneously combust.

**({'})** _So, Bella? Do you want to play a game with Alice? I think a little payback is in order for swapping you out of the Swordfish lane._

Yeah… it's about time.


	42. Chapter 42

"So, Jazz… did your aunt make you wear all of these clothes in the pool?" I say pointing to his outfit, "because the Victorian era called, they want their-"

"Ha-ha. Very funny," he deadpans.

"You know. Johnny Depp rocked this look in 'Sweeny Todd', but you – not so much." I chuckle.

"For your information, it was Eddie, who told me that it would be a good idea to wear a long-sleeved shirt in the pool," he explains.

"What?"

"He said it would be for my own safety since a certain little girl has a tendency to grab at shiny things. Plus, he said some of my tattoos aren't suitable for display around small children."

**({'})** _Oh, this I gotta see!_

Jake Black is kneeling down on the edge of the pool taking water samples for reagent testing. Alice and Joe have been training him to become a part-time manager. Unfortunately, he does tend to get a little enthusiastic with the chlorine, so I know Alice is about to head toward Jake to oversee the testing processes.

The stars have all aligned. I just need to pick the precise moment. It all plays out in my head like a movie. It is going to be awesome.

The thing about Alice Brandon, is that even though she is the co-owner of a swimming center, and she's an instructor, she doesn't like to get into the pool. _Ever_.

It's not that she is afraid of the water either. She just hates what the chlorine does to all of her swim suits and skin. Also, Alice is one of those women who have to look perfect all the time just in case 'doctor right' comes along. Her hair and make-up are _always_ immaculate.

Revenge will be mine.

Because the first rule of the Brandon Aquatic Center is… Never wet Alice.


	43. Chapter 43

Alice is walking along the edge of the pool from the shallow end toward Jake, and I know she is watching us. I lean in close to Jazz and take Milly from his arms, and I speak lowly.

"Do you trust me?"

He looks at me curiously. "Why."

"Just answer the damn question."

"I suppose."

"Do you have a girlfriend, wife or a significant other?"

"No."

"Do you have any mental health problems or anything sexually transmittable – including children?"

"No!" he says laughing.

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"Not that I can recall. However, I may have been too drunk at the time to remember."

I give him a scowl.

"I kid. I kid. I swear," he says laughing.

"Are you gainfully employed?"

"I'm a musician."

Well, musician is definitely in Alice's top three professions for guys she'd like to marry.

"Do you take any illegal substances or participate in the distribution or manufacture of them?"

"What are you? A cop?"

"If I could promise you a date with one of the coolest women you'll ever meet, would you take off your shirt for me?" I raise my eyebrows in challenge.

"Is that woman currently in this room, and she just so happens to be walking behind me?"

"Yes."

Jazz grins wickedly.


	44. Chapter 44

"Okay. When I tell you, lift your shirt slowly in the front, and when I wink at you, take it off," I instruct.

Alice is still walking along the edge of the pool, but I know her curiosity will soon get the better of her. She will need just one more glance and… there it is…

"Now!" I whisper, and Jazz lifts his shirt up on one side to reveal a shiny, silver circular barbell nipple ring. At both tips of the barbell, there are small, pointy captive cones. He then makes a sexy show of it, running his hand from his lower abdomen up toward his chest to lift the other side of his shirt to reveal a matching nipple ring. From my peripheral vision, I see we have Alice's undivided attention. Little does she know - Alice is on a collision course with Jake.

I put my forefinger on Jazz's chest, pretending to trace something on the colorful dragon tattoo that starts over his right pectoral muscle, just above his nipple, and appears to extend over his shoulder and down his arm like a sleeve. Then I wink. He proceeds to take off his shirt to expose the rest of the tattoos. His mini-striptease is almost sensual; first, he slowly removes one long sleeve and then pulling his head through the neck of the shirt, he finally allows the garment to slide wetly down along the other arm until he is clutching it in his hand.

"Turn around and let me see the back; when you see Ali, smile at her the way you did when you first saw her."

And then… it was epic.


	45. Chapter 45

With all the ungainliness of a newborn giraffe falling into a waterhole, Alice Brandon trips over the crouched form of Jake Black and falls sideways towards the water, and it isn't pretty. Arms are flailing; legs are akimbo.

"SHIIIIIII-" she screeches, her curse word cut off within a second of hitting the water.

**({'})** _Bella shoots; she scores! And the crowd goes wild! The scores have become tied, folks. Alice and Bella are now neck and neck at one all!_

Thank you; thank you, I am made of awesomeness.

If it wasn't for Libby and her Kegel obsession, I'd be pissing myself laughing for real. As it is, I'm just laughing really hard. Milly is giggling too, but I think that is because she just likes to join in on the fun. Jazz is still chuckling as he watches Alice's face break the surface.

And then she stands. Her white designer t-shirt and matching white sweatpants are water-logged, and they hang heavily from her frame. Her shoulder blade length hair is plastered to her forehead and cheeks, forming a black curtain around her features. Her mascara is running down her face.

Alice tilts her chin down and glares at both of us through her fringe. She kind of reminds me of the creepy, pissed off little girl, Samara Morgan, from the movie 'The Ring'. If looks could kill.

Jazz, being a total pussy, stops laughing and makes a move toward her. Faster than lightning, I slap a hand on his shoulder to stop him going any further.

"You laughed at Alice. If you want to keep your balls intact, I suggest you first let her calm down," I warn in a low voice.

He gulps audibly. "And how long will that take?"

"Maybe a week or two – three, tops."

"Not. Funny. Bella Marie Swan!" Alice fumes.

"Funny is in the eye of the beholder," I remind her and then give Alice a cocky smile.

"Ha! She totally middle-named you – Marie!" he teases triumphantly.

"Well at least my middle name's not Whitlock. My parents actually loved me."

Alice wades over to the side of the pool. Jake bends down and offers a supportive hand to help her to get out of the water.

Jazz laughs and looks at me. "You are evil Bella _Marie_ Swan. Evil, but funny. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Well, you're the first person to tell me I'm funny," I say batting my eyelids innocently.

Jake is still laughing. He's a naive idiot. Because the second Alice is standing next to him, she somehow manages to push him into the pool. I'm mildly impressed; because compared to Alice, Jake is fucking huge. The splash he makes on entry is massive, and Alice appears somewhat vindicated. Jake can take a joke, though. When his head resurfaces, he laughs joyfully and then shakes his head like a dog to flick the water from his hair.

But just when I think I've finally been dealt a winning hand in the ongoing campaign of one-upmanship between Alice and me – Alice pulls a fucking ace out of her ass.


	46. Chapter 46

Jake, Esme, and I are stunned but also amused. Jazz looks as though he's about to have a heart attack.

When I say Alice pulled an ace out of her ass, what I actually mean is that she stood next to the pool, dripping wet, and then she proceeded to perform her own version of a mini striptease for Jazz, while peeling off her designer T-shirt and sweat pants.

Alice has her back toward us, and she's only wearing a pale peach, lacy, push-up demi-bra with a matching T-string. And there it is folks…

The ace of hearts. And the jack of spades. Blackjack. Twenty-one.

On her right ass cheek.

Gotta hand it to her. The girl has balls.

**({'}) **_Figuratively speaking of course because we can all see there is no room whatsoever in that teeny, tiny thong for a big, hairy nut sack – or even pubic hair, for that matter._

There is a story behind that tattoo. On Alice's 21st birthday, I had come home to find her sitting on my bed with my bags packed. She'd informed me that because of a dream, the two of us were going to Atlantic City. She had already booked our flights and accommodation for the holiday weekend, so I wasn't about to argue.

Before that weekend, Alice had never played Blackjack, and to my knowledge, she hasn't participated in any forms of recreational gambling since. However, during our stay, she managed to work her way up from $100 bets up to bets of $50,000, which was the maximum wager allowed in pit ten of the Tropicana Casino.

Alice walked away with almost two-million dollars. To celebrate her win, we were going to get matching Blackjack tattoos. She went first. And then I chickened out because I'm allergic to pain. The money enabled her to pay off her father's loan on the aquatic center and paid for some renovations. The rest of the money she invested wisely.

Alice bends over to pick up her wet clothing before calmly walking to the office without so much as a backward glance. Moments later, she reappears with her gym bag as she heads for the changeroom.

"Jazz?"

He is facing away from Milly and me and says nothing.

"Jazz?" I say again.

"Er… Bella? Can you just… give me a minute?" he says in a hushed voice.

"What?"

"I can't turn around right now, okay?" he hisses.

"Why not? Oh!" I giggle. "Oh my God, have you got a-"

**({'})** _Boner!_

"Shut up!" he hisses again. "My aunt is over there, and I would appreciate it if you could just distract me somehow."

"Oh all right then," I say resignedly. With his back still toward me, I finally take in the rest of the tattoos on his arms.

I'm holding little Milly on my hip, and she flaps her tiny hand before pointing to Jazz's bicep.

"Bewba!"

I look up to where Milly is pointing.

"Um… Jazz?"

"Yeah?"

"What in the blue hell is this tattoo?"


	47. Chapter 47

"Bewba," Milly repeats, pointing insistently at the tattoo again. She's got an excellent eye. That's unmistakably a boob I can see.

The erotic tattoo is of a man and woman. They are both upright beneath the water, and they are depicted in the act of making love; however, the lower half of the man's body appears to be that of a pink dolphin.

Weird.

The woman has her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Her eyes are closed, and her head, neck and shoulders are arched back in rapture while her fingers are entwined in his hair. The male has his mouth over one of the woman's nipples, and his stare is heavy-lidded in ecstasy. One of his hands cups her other breast while the other hand rests on her bottom.

"Er, Jazz? Please tell me that you aren't into anything extremely freaky - such as attending 'Furry Conventions'."

From my peripheral vision, I see Alice leaving the changeroom and heading back into the office. While the door is briefly open, I can hear the sound of an idling motorcycle engine.

He chuckles and explains, "The tattoo depicts the folklore tale of the 'Encantado'. The word Encantado in Brazilian Portuguese roughly translates to 'enchanted one'. The Encantado are boto dolphins that come from an underwater realm. At will, they can transform into extremely attractive humans. The characteristics of the Encantado are their superior musical ability, their seductions and pursuit of sex, and they love to party."

Jazz, who seems to have calmed down, turns to face me and throws his long-sleeved shirt out of the pool towards Esme. The shirt lands with a wet, '_plop'_ near her feet and she jumps in fright. He chuckles at her displeased expression. I pass Milly back to him, and while he holds her body, I paddle her arms, encouraging her to continue to do it by herself.

He continues, "When people refer to party animals, they are speaking of the Encantados. They tend to crash in on every party they can find and often end up being the main attraction. But the party can't last forever, and the Encantados see to that – normally by being caught during the act of sex with a forbidden woman. They can be quite possessive, and a love-struck Encantado will kidnap a human woman and take her back to his home in the underwater city called the Encante. Most of the women never return, and those that do are pregnant or insane."

From my peripheral vision, I watch as Edward pushes through the glass, swing doors to the pool area. He makes his way over to where Esme is sitting. When Edward sits down, he folds his arms. He glares daggers at Jazz before looking impatiently at his watch and nervously bouncing his feet.


	48. Chapter 48

I look up at the large clock on the wall. We still have a few minutes to go.

"So how did you come to get a tattoo like that?" I ask, trying hard not to glance at Edward in the background. I wonder what his problem is.

"I was playing a gig in Rio when I met a tattooist named Maria. She fancied I was an Encantado, and after talking and dancing with me for half of the night, she'd almost convinced herself. Anyway, we became very close, and we even lived together for a while. She asked if she could tattoo me. In fact, she did most of my artwork and piercings."

"Are there more?" I ask, looking down at his remarkably long board shorts.

"Yeah, I have some others," he says enigmatically with a sly smile.

Edward suddenly stands and walks to the side of the pool.

"Jazz. We gotta go, or we'll miss your flight. We've got a schedule to keep," he announces loudly.

Jazz rolls his eyes.

I look to Jazz. "You're leaving?"

"I was just here visiting for the weekend. I'm in the middle of recording in L.A. with my band. From here Edward and I will drop the bikes back at Aunt Esme's, and then we'll head to the heliport. Edward's gonna fly me out to Boeing Kent, and then I'll catch a flight from Sea Tac. But I'll be back in a few weeks to collect on that date you promised me." He winks conspiratorially.

Edward.

Heliport.

Edward flying Jazz to another heliport.

I look at Jazz, incredulous at what he's just told me. "You mean… Edward flies helicopters?"

"Yeah. He's just started up a charter business, but he's been flying for years, thanks to Uncle Carlisle."

Suddenly, I'm having visions of Edward wearing a flight suit, and I know it's because of Libby.

So. Hot.

**({'})** _Why do helicopter pilots make great lovers?_

Enlighten me.

**({'})** _They can get it up faster_. *_snicker_*

I inwardly roll my eyes because that joke was kind of lame.

Jazz and I wade over to the side of the pool. Edward is still glaring at Jazz. I take hold of Milly and pretend I'm going to eat her hand as Jazz gets out of the pool. Milly squeals and giggles as I 'nom' my way up her arm. I see Edward's expression soften. There is a hint of a wistful smile turning up the corner of his mouth. With Jazz out of the pool, I pass Milly to him, and then I grab a plastic basket and turn around to collect the toys and balls. Suddenly, there is a girly sounding scream.


	49. Chapter 49

"Let go, let go, let go, let go! Nyaaaaaaaarrgh."

On turning around, I notice Jazz looks a little pale.

"Told you to keep your shirt on," Edward deadpans as he detaches Milly's little fingers from Jazz's nipple ring.

Esme is standing there with a towel, waiting to grab Milly, and she's laughing her ass off. With the three of them standing together, it's an unnerving sight to see. They are all so good looking. If Rosalie was here too, I would seriously wonder if they were even human.

**({'})** _I don't think they're human. I mean, look at Esme!_

Libby's right. Esme would have to be in her mid-forties at least, but she'd easily pass for being in her early to mid-thirties.

**({'})** _They must be vampires. I'll bet they drink the blood of twelve-year-old virgins._

Ever hear of a little thing called 'Plastic Surgery'? Slightly more plausible, don't you think?

I shake my head at Libby's ridiculousness and then rethink my afternoon plans for having a marathon of Buffy/ Spike episodes when I get home.

**({'})** _Oooooooooooh. James Marsters. That jaw – those cheeks – the fake English accent. I want James Marsters to talk dirty to me in that accent... or we could have the real thing. Imagine Edward talking dirty to us. *glug glug glug* _

Christ almighty, give me strength.

With all the toys collected, I make my way to the edge of the pool. I heft the basket over the side and then climb the ladder. I can see Edward watching me. It's disconcerting, and it's times like these that I wish I had Alice's body confidence, but I don't. I quickly grab my towel and wrap it around me. I don't acknowledge him or his staring in any way. Hurriedly, I walk to the office, grab my bag and head off to the changeroom. And yet I can still feel his eyes boring into me.


	50. Chapter 50

I know they are in here.

They have to be in here.

I distinctly remember packing them. They are kind of hard to miss, considering they are red satin, black ribbon and black lace. It's not the sort of underwear I'd normally wear during the day, but I was running low. It was a choice between the slutty burlesque-inspired matching set or my graying sports bra and black, full-brief panties I only ever wear at night when Aunt Flo comes to visit.

Don't judge me. I have plans to do laundry this afternoon while lounging around on the couch and watching TV.

I keep searching my gym bag in hope, but a sinking feeling in the pit of my gut tells me otherwise. Gone. My underwear is gone. Most likely stolen. And I know just whodunit.

"ALICE!" I holler loudly.

I throw on my black T-shirt and yoga pants and storm my way to the reception desk where I know she'll be.

"Give them back – NOW!" I demand, and I hold out my hand, palm facing up.

Alice doesn't answer. Instead, she grins mischievously and then resumes staring out of the window at something going on in the parking lot.

Following her gaze, my jaw drops. I move to the front door and feel my whole body flush with mortification.


	51. Chapter 51

Edward is chasing Jazz around the parking lot. He is yelling out obscenities and threatening to kill him.

Jazz is running, ducking, weaving and feinting like a pro basketball player, barely skipping out of his cousin's grasp.

Esme is standing next to the Volvo, loudly screeching, "Swear jar!" and threatening to disown them both.

Finally, Edward manages to grab hold of my bra; the bra Jazz is wearing around his neck like a neck tie. Like a bull calf that has been roped by a rodeo cowboy, Jazz goes down and Edward pounces. He rams his knee into the middle of Jazz's spine and then pulls Jazz's arm up behind his back, the one with the hand holding onto my panties. Jazz uses his free hand to tap out in defeat.

Finally Jazz notices me and grins wickedly. "Bella Marie!" he calls out in greeting as if seeing me for the first time today. "Someone left us some naughty presents!"

Edward manages to unloop my bra strap from around Jazz's neck and then frees my panties from his cousin's iron-fisted grip. When Edward moves to stand, I see him give Jazz a quick knee to the ribs as soon as his mom closes the driver-side door of the Volvo behind her.

Jazz lets out an, "Oooofff," and curls his body inwardly.

"I swear, Jazz; you are such a fucking child," he says to the still coiled up form on the ground.

Edward stands to his full height, and I see his jeans are covered in patches of brown dirt and black oil from wrestling in the middle of the parking lot. Edward _'I'm-a-dirty-boy'_ Cullen turns to look at me.

Tight, blue jeans.

His hair is in disarray. Looks a bit like sex-hair.

And he's a little sweaty, too.

Another scenario concerning sex hair and sweat comes to mind, and I feel my bra-less nipples peak beneath the fabric of my T-shirt. My breaths become shallow.

Libby, this is neither the time nor place. Black yoga pants and no panties, remember!

**({'})** _Calm, blue ocean… calm, blue ocean… calm, blue ocean._


	52. Chapter 52

Edward walks toward me, and he appears to be a little embarrassed.

"Somehow, I have a feeling these might be yours," he says, his eyes flicking down to my chest and then back up to my face.

My headlight-like boobs are at full beam. It's not hard to guess I'm going commando right now.

He takes hold of one of my hands that is hanging loosely by my side, and he places my underwear in the palm.

"I hope they're not ruined. They looked really nice… and expensive." He blushes and then looks towards a pair of motorcycles. The bikes are all gleaming chrome, and they're trimmed in red and black. They have a gold star logo on their gas tanks that reads, 'BSA'. The bikes appear to be classics, in either mint condition or expertly restored.

He continues, "Jazz was right, though. We found them hanging over the handlebars of the bikes. Unfortunately, my cousin has the maturity of a prepubescent twelve-year-old boy when it comes to women's underwear. At least I managed to stop him from wearing your knickers on his big, fat head. If they are damaged in any way, just let me know, and _we'll_ replace them," he says giving Jazz another pointed glare.

"Playboy brand panties, right? Nice!" Jazz says giving me a double-eyebrow waggle.

I nod in embarrassment. The Playboy 'Valkyrie' bumster and bra set was not like anything I'd ever buy for myself. My mom, Renee, had randomly sent them to me from Australia. She moved in with a guy named Phil Dwyer; also known as potential husband number four. The last I had heard, Mom was living in Sydney and working as a buyer for a large chain of lingerie stores. I guess she figured with me being thirty, unmarried and unattached, it meant I might need some extra assistance with attracting a man.

"So, just let me know… you know… if they need replacing… tell me… next week," he stutters out.

"Well that will all depend upon if the center is open next week. One of the co-owners may be dead, and then I'll have a funeral to arrange," I say, making certain Alice can hear me.

Alice laughs.

Bitch.

"Bye, Bella," Edward says. "See you next week – I hope."

"Bye bye, Bella Marie," Jazz says in a sing-song manner.

I ignore him and look only at Edward. "Yeah, see ya."

As I turn to make my way into the office, I hear a sharp intake of breath and then a deep, quiet moan. When I turn to look over my shoulder, I see Edward_ 'cant'-take-my-eyes-off-of-you'_ Cullen checking out my ass.

My panty-less ass in tight yoga pants.

Our gazes lock briefly before he turns and strides over to Jazz.

"Busted," Jazz says to Edward.

Giving Jazz a shove he barks, "Get on the fucking bike. You better hope I can make good time, or you can spend the rest of the afternoon alone, with your sorry arse waiting at Sea Tac to see if another flight becomes available."

I don't stay to watch them leave. Instead, I head back inside to face my nemesis. With my hands braced against the reception desk, I stare her down.

"This means war, Alice. You won't know when… and you don't know how, but if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open," I advise, before stalking back to the changeroom to collect my things.

Revenge will be mine. Oh yes… revenge will be mine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Bella's underwear - (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/qkHJlb - Just remove the brackets to get the link to work  
><strong>


	53. Chapter 53

**_Friday afternoon - 15th June 2012 - 3.00pm._**

_Wriggle.  
>Wriggle… wriggle.<br>Uncross legs.  
>Cross legs again.<br>Rocking… rocking.  
>Wriggle.<br>Rub… rub… rub… rub._

**({'})** _Oh, yeah. That's the spot. Right there – no, left! To the left. Ahhhhh. That's it..._

_Rub… rub… rub… wriggle._

This multi-disciplinary stroke meeting feels as though it's been going on forever. Although it sounds kind of kinky, it's assuredly not.

Every Friday, the staff of the multi-disciplinary team for the Acute Stroke Unit, congregate within the lecture room to discuss the patients who are currently under our care. The team includes doctors, senior nursing staff, physiotherapists, clinical pharmacologists, speech therapists, dieticians, occupational therapists, and community care liaison staff.

Usually, I find these meetings engrossing and an excellent way of keeping up with what is happening with the patients, but today I'm just dying to get out of here. I am soooooooo itchy! I have an exquisite case of regrowth itch. The perils of shaving the bikini line. I should just buy myself some boy-leg swim shorts, and then I'll never have to shave again. It's not as if anyone besides me looks at Libby anyway.

**({'})** _But... then we'll never get laid! And we have a date tomorrow night, remember? I mean, if you want to sell the house, you've got to mow the lawn, right? _

I am not going to fuck Mike Newton. End of story.

_Rub… rub… rub… wriggle._

So damn itchy. I'm wriggling uncomfortably in my seat and rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to quell the insane desire I have to just whip my skirt up around my ears and go hell for leather with my nails in my crotch. However, this is neither the time nor the place for such abandonment. It just wouldn't look good. And thanks to Edward '_sex-hair_' Cullen and his episode of verbal vomit in the cafeteria last week, I think there's a rumor going around here that I'm a high-class escort on the side.

**({'})** _The silver lining is that they at least think you're high class and not just some $10 hooker giving blow jobs behind the cafeteria dumpster._

That's _not_ a silver lining!

Doctor 'Randy' Gerandy has been giving me the hairy-eyeball throughout this whole meeting. With all this wiggling and thigh rubbing, he probably thinks I've gotten crabs from one of my on-the-side '_clients'_.

**({'})** _Maybe you should try waxing for once. Then there would be a longer period between regrowth._

Are you crazy? You know I have a low tolerance for pain.

**({'})** _You are such a pussy._

Pot meet kettle.

**({'})** _Alice is half your size, and she takes it **all** off. _

That's because Alice takes Valium beforehand. I'm not about to pop prescription only sedatives just to have some stranger staring down at my pink bits and ripping all the hair from the roots.

**({'})** _You don't have to take off all the hair. Just a short, back and sides tidy up would be sufficient. I'm thirty years old for God sake. I don't want to look eleven again! You could even buy one of those DIY at home kits._

**({'})** _I mean… how hard can it actually be?_

**{{'})** _You just have to remember the wise words of old Mister Miyagi._

Who?

**{{'}) **_Mister Miyagi? _

**{{'})** _You know – the old dude in 'The Karate Kid' movies?_

And what sage words of wisdom does he have to offer in regard to the issue of female depilation?

**{{'}) **_Wax on… wax off_.


	54. Chapter 54

**_Early Friday evening…_**

Okay – wax on, wax off.

Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth… and pull. It sounds easy enough.

I've applied plenty of wax and a cloth strip to the left side of my groin from the top, stretching all the way down to the inside of my butt cheek, and I'm standing in the bathroom with my leg propped up on the side of the tub. I have a grasp of the end of the cloth strip. I just need to pull.

_Breathe in… breathe out._

Here we go.

_Breathe in… breathe out._

And here we go.

_Breathe in… breathe out._

**({'})** _Go now_.

_Breathe in… breathe out._

**({'})** _Now…_

_Breathe in… breathe out._

**({'})** _Now, Bella!_

I can't.

**({'})** _One… two, three, go!_

_Breathe in… breathe out._

Uh… who turned out the fucking lights?

-oo0oo-

**_An hour later…_**

I'm sweating bullets, and my vision has only just returned. I've only managed to tease half a strip off the inside of my left groin. I still have hair where I wanted hair gone. And a bald patch where I didn't want one.

Fuck.

-oo0oo-

**_Another thirty minutes later…_**

God hates me. Stupidly, I thought I could just wash the wax off and now I've managed to glue the washcloth between my legs. Not only do I have half a cloth strip running from mid-groin to my ass, I now have a wash cloth stuck to my pussy and thighs with depilatory wax, too. It's hard to believe that someone like me, who has a Master's Degree, can be such a fucking moron. With difficulty, I penguin-walk my way to my bedroom to get my phone, and then I return to the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I hold my iPhone in my trembling hands and hit the number at the top of my contacts list. The call is answered on the third ring.

_"Bella?"_

"Alice," I sob, "I've got a 'code pink' emergency. I need you to come to my house."

_"What do you need, babe? Pads? Tampons? Morning-after pill? Pregnancy test? Bolt cutters?"_

"Bolt cutters?"

_"I figured with Charlie being the Chief of Police you must have at least scored a spare pair of handcuffs at some point for some sexy times."_

I roll my eyes at her even though she can't see me through the phone.

"I can't explain it over the phone. Just get your ass over here."

_"Fine. I'll see you in ten."_


	55. Chapter 55

"This could only happen to you, Bella," Alice says while trying to control her smirk. She's not being terribly successful.

"What am I going to do?" I cry. "I can't live with a wash cloth glued to my vagina."

"If I agree to help you, will you call off the vendetta? I'd like to go to sleep at night knowing I won't wake up to find the severed head of a racehorse at the end of my bed."

"Fine!" I huff. "I'll do anything. Consider us even."

"We're going to need some professional help."

"Alice, it's after eight. Who the hell is going to open up a beauty salon at this time of the night?"

"Trust me. I have a friend."

Alice pulls out her phone, scrolls through her list of contacts and mashes a finger on the screen.

"Hey, Leah?"

-oo0oo-

Leah, as it turns out, is Leah Clearwater. She is an aesthetician, and lucky for me, she happens to have a monster crush on Jake Black. With the promise of getting a date with Jake, Leah happily invites us into her home.

"Okay let me see what we have here," Leah says, and I gingerly lift my old bleach-stained and frayed denim mini skirt; the skirt I usually wear when I'm giving the bathroom a serious clean. I figured if the skirt got stuck to me on the ride over, it wouldn't break my heart to have it cut off.

"What the fuck did you do? You know this sort of thing should be left to the professionals."

"I wasn't trying to do you out of a job! I just wanted to save some time and maybe preserve my dignity in the comfort of my own home."

"Well you can kiss your dignity goodbye," Leah says while shaking her head in incredulity, "you've really fucked this up. It looks like we'll be going to Brazil."

"Can't we just go somewhere a little less drastic; like Bikini Atoll?"

-oo0oo-

After cutting off the wash cloth and the remaining half of the cloth strip I'd already applied, Leah proceeds to slather wax that is the temperature of molten hot lava all over my pussy.

_Rrrrrrip!_

Despite having my legs spread apart in a contraption that is somewhat similar to what one would expect to find in a gynecologist's examination room, my back arches like a gymnast doing a backbend. I scream so forcefully nothing comes out. Somewhere in the distance, dogs bark and a window shatters.

"Bella?" It's Alice's voice.

The first thing I do when I open my eyes is to look down at Libby. Through my foggy vision, I can see there are pinprick sized spots of blood dotted here and there on the surface of my skin. I look up at Leah, and I see she's holding up a cloth strip that is covered in my pubic hair. It looks like an animal pelt.

Oh my God. I've been scalped! Libby? Speak to me! I can't hear her. She must be in shock.

"I think Bella's finally coming around," Alice announces.

"Good. Now get her to roll over and spread her ass cheeks."


	56. Chapter 56

**_11.20pm _**

I've been sitting in a tub of cold water for the last thirty minutes. It's the only thing that's controlling the excruciating pain, but I'm freezing my tits off. I've also taken two Motrin, but it's barely helped. I'm tired and emotional, but I know this burning sensation in my hoo-hoo will prevent me from sleeping. It gives a whole new meaning to 'sex on fire'.

Libby is still out of it, and I'm a little concerned.

Picking up my iPhone, I ask the Google gods for advice. 'No Scream Cream' topical anesthetic. I only wish I'd known about it before I decided to wax the canoe. And by wax the canoe, I don't mean masturbation because nothing can touch 'the precious' right now. Even a stiff breeze would make me wince.

Before I managed to drop my iPhone into the bath water, Google maps told me there's a 24-hour pharmacy about 20 minutes from my home. After asking the back-up Google gods on my laptop computer what to do if I, "Dropped my iPhone in the water," I leave my phone in an airtight container with some uncooked rice for three days, and I hope for the best.

-oo0oo-

**_11.59pm_**

It's a little draughty down in the basement.

I'm standing in the middle of Walgreens dressed in a knee-length gypsy-style skirt, sans panties because I can't handle anything touching me down there right now. Cruising down the aisles at midnight, I'm in search of the elusive Holy Grail – No Scream Cream or something like it. And because we've already established that God hates me, it is while I'm standing here panty-less in the middle of the 'Intimate Care' aisle surrounded by hemorrhoid cream, Vagisil, tampons, vaginal lubricant, douches, ovulation prediction kits, pregnancy tests, and incontinence pads that I hear _his_ voice.

"Bella? What are you doing here at this time of night?"

Fuck my life.

Seriously.

Fuck my life.

Sideways.


	57. Chapter 57

Of all the pharmacies, in all the towns, in all the world, he walks into this one.

Edward '_all-my-fantasies-rolled-into-one_' Cullen. He is standing there looking tired and worn out while holding what looks like a different brand of infant formula in each hand.

How do I answer his question? What _am_ I doing here? What do I tell him? The truth?

_Oh, hey, Edward! I just got a Brazilian waxing today. Despite it being the most action my vajayjay has seen in the last two years, it now resembles an angry plucked turkey. I'm just here to pick up a little anesthetic relief because my boo-boo hurts. Wanna kiss it better?_

No. Just no.

So what do I do instead?

I reach out my hand to the side and pick up a familiar black box of Kotex U tampons. It should now be perfectly obvious to him why I am in _this_ aisle at _this_ time of the night. Men know women have periods, right? Heck, Alice Cooper even wrote a song called, "Only Women Bleed," although I don't think he was singing about menstruation.

"Oh hey, Edward. I was just in the neighborhood, and I decided to – you know – stock up on essentials," I say, nonchalantly passing the box from one hand to the other. I look down at the box in my hand, only to discover I'm not holding a box of tampons.

In my state of shock, I drop the box, and it tumbles to the floor, coming to rest right in front of Edward's shoes – naturally. And because Edward is a gentleman, he rearranges the cans of formula in his grasp, so he can bend down to pick up my 'purchase'. He stands to his full height, and before handing the black box back to me, he carefully reads the label. His eyebrows rise in what may be either shock or surprise. And then he blushes.

"Here… you err… dropped your condoms," he says while handing them to me.

Reluctantly, I take the box of 24 XL sized Trojan Magnums from his hand.

"That's um… that's a lot of condoms," he says with a shy smile.

"I'm a safety girl," I blurt out before I realize I've just quoted Vivian – the hooker from the movie 'Pretty Woman', who ironically was talking to another Edward about condoms. Just as I'm wishing the Earth would open up and swallow me whole, I faintly hear a White Stripes song playing.

"Would you mind holding this?" he asks, and then he hands me one of the cans of formula.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he answers it.

"Rosie?...

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here now…

"I'm not sure which one you wanted…

"Well, actually I was just about to ask Bella for her advice…

"Yeah, she's standing right here in front of me.

"What?

"Um…

"I don't know… I didn't ask…

"How do you know?

"Mum said that?

"Oh…"

Edward glances down at the box in my hand. "Okay… okay… I will… just let me go, and I'll be home soon, promise. Bye."

He puts his phone back in his pocket, and I hand back the can of formula. "That was Rosie."

"I gathered that."

"She said to say, 'Hi,' and to wish you luck on your date tomorrow night with Mike."

"How does she know about that?" I ask confused.

"She said my mum overheard you speaking with one of the guys from the Waterbabes classes last Sunday morning."

"Right. Of course."

"So, Bella. I was wondering… do you happen to know anything about infant formula?"


	58. Chapter 58

By asking a few questions, and using the modest knowledge I've gleaned from my former studies of feeding and swallowing disorders in pediatric patients, I help Edward to select a can of formula.

According to Edward, he'd been sent out to the pharmacy by Rosalie as Milly had suddenly started to self-wean. Milly was distraught and unable to go to sleep without a feed. At first, they had thought she was unwell, but after Rosalie had contacted one of the leaders of the local La Leche League, it was suggested the pregnancy may be the reason Milly was rejecting Rosalie's attempts at feeding her. Standing at the register, as we wait for the cashier to scan our purchases, we make small talk.

"So, did Jazz manage to catch his flight on time?"

"Yeah he did. He's just lucky I had run through all the safety checks, lodged the flight plan, and refueled beforehand."

"Was that what you were doing while Jazz was with Milly in the Waterbabe class?"

He nods. "The thing about Jazz is that he is late to _everything_. When the time comes, I predict he'll even manage to find a way to be late to his own funeral."

With his can of formula paid for, Edward seems determined to wait around for me until I have paid for my unnecessary, overly-large condoms. He insists on seeing me safely out to my truck, even though the parking lot is well lit, and we are the only customers here. As I stand next to my truck, I feel an urgent need to get home as soon as possible so I can climb into the bath again. I've been foiled in my attempt to find some topical anesthetic cream to relieve the pulsating pain in my punani. My hands are trembling, and I'm fumbling with my keys as I attempt to open the door.

"So… I guess we'll see you on Sunday morning," he says from the open window of the Volvo. It's parked in the same row as my truck, only five car spaces apart.

"Yeah, sure." I finally manage to unlock my door, but accidentally drop my keys on the ground. I bend down to pick them up, and a sudden gust of wind flips up the back of my skirt. My pale, bare-as-the-day-I-was-born-ass' is just hanging out there in the breeze. In a panic, I push my skirt down and dive into the front seat of my truck. Slamming the door closed, I just hope and pray the skirt flip was too quick for Edward to notice that I'm going commando once again.

I look over at the Volvo. Edward is not looking at me. His hands are gripping the top of the steering wheel. His forehead is resting on top of his knuckles, and I think his eyes are scrunched shut. He's shaking his head side to side, too. Yep. He saw me all right.

All I can think is, _Why me… and why did it have to be him?_ I start the truck and drive out of the lot.

Dear God, in heaven… I kind of hate you right now. I really, really do.


	59. Chapter 59

**_Saturday - June 16th 2012 - 1:30am. _**

After sitting in a cold tub of water for another hour, hypothermia and sleep deprivation have finally got the best of me. I'm now standing in front of the freezer in the vain hope that a tray of ice cubes or a reusable ice pack will magically appear. No such luck. I currently have two options available to me.

Option A – A half-used bag of frozen, chopped onions that are well past their use-by-date.

_Or…_

Option B – My last remaining double-dark chocolate and Frangelico, triple choc-dipped, homemade fudgesicle.

Don't judge me. I need to do some grocery shopping tomorrow – or I guess that's today, actually.

You know what I mean.

Deciding that I don't want to smell like onions _down there_, I search the kitchen for something to put the fudgesicle in so I can use it as an ice pack. After searching through the cupboards and drawers, I discover I need to add plastic freezer bags, zip-lock bags, Saran wrap, and aluminum foil to my grocery list because I'm out of all of them. Just as I'm about to give up and go in search of an inflatable pillow to take into the tub, I behold the box of XL condoms sitting on the dining room table. I dumped them there along with my keys and purse when I'd come home from the pharmacy.

I look up at the ceiling. "Dear God, in Heaven… if this idea works, all is forgiven, okay?"

I can now add, 'Using a contraceptive on a fudgesicle' onto my ever growing list of, 'Things I-never-imagined-I-would-do-in-a-million-years and-will-never-admit-to-if-I'm-asked.'

Unbelievably, it's a perfect fit, and I can just barely tie off the end of the condom. Finally, with my unconventional ice pack nestled between my legs (on the _outside_... perverts!) I fall asleep somewhere around 2:00am. Thank God, I can sleep-in in the morning.

-oo0oo-

**_11:15am._**

**({'}) **_Bella!_

**({'})** _Bella! Wake up!_

"Huh? Oh, Libby – you're alive."

**({'})** _Um… why am I covered in chocolate?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**_ - _**So Stephenie had her Bella wake up covered with feathers... I preferred chocolate.**


	60. Chapter 60

After cleaning up the melted chocolate fudgesical from between my legs and stripping the linen from my bed, I dump the rest of the condoms in the trash. Obviously, Walgreens don't sell enough XL condoms to rotate their stock because they were actually years out-of-date, which probably explains why the latex perished during the night. I'm just thankful chocolate and ice-cream can't impregnate me.

Just as I'm leaving the house to buy groceries, I find a mysterious box sitting on my front door step. I can tell it's from Alice, due to the writing on the outside that reads, "Why aren't you answering your door and phone?"

I open the box which is wrapped in brown paper. The first thing I see in the box is a homemade greeting card. On the front of the card, is one of those freaky looking, hairless sphynx cats. In fact, it's a picture of Dr. Evil's cat, Mr. Bigglesworth, from the Austin Powers movies.

"_I heard your pussy was having a bad hair day_," the caption declares.

On opening the card, the punch line reads, "_But at least yours will grow back_!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Dear Bella,<em>**

**_I made you a care package. _**  
><strong><em>Here are a few things I thought you could use.<em>**

**_Love Alice. xxx_**

**_P.S. Have fun on your date tonight and don't do anything I wouldn't do._**

* * *

><p>I guess that means I can safely cross out sex with Mike Newton.<p>

**({'})** _Not that I could even contemplate having sex with anyone right now, even if I wanted to!_

Inside the box, there are several small wrapped items. I open the first package. It's a kiddie's inflatable pool ring. '_To sit on_,' it says on the attached post-it note. Very funny.

The next package is thin and flat. It's three DIY Vajazzling kits in various colored crystals. There's a blue dolphin, a set of red lips, and in white adhesive crystals there is the word, 'ENTER,' with a downward pointing arrow. Downright hilarious. I decide that one day I'm going to get Alice absolutely rolling drunk, and I'm going to Vajazzle her forehead using the strongest glue known to mankind. However, I'm undecided whether to rearrange the crystals to write the word, 'INSANE', or make them into a picture of a penis.

I nearly weep when I see what is in the third package. It's a tube of Dr. Numb topical anesthetic cream. I immediately apply it to my skin, and Libby almost sighs in relief. At least I'll be able to walk around the grocery store without looking like a cowboy who's ridden for days on end.

I open the last package and what I see doesn't make sense. It's a triangular piece of fuzzy, red fabric.

**({'})** _It looks like a piece of a Muppet. Is Alice holding Elmo for ransom and sending us the pieces? Does Elmo have a tail?_

I turn it over. It has an adhesive backing. On the adhesive backing, Alice has written the words…

_Merkin. You can Google it_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Yes, you can Google it if you don't know what a merkin is.**

**A slideshow of Ali's care package **- remove brackets to get link to work. ** (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Care-pack  
><strong>


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N - I can't believe how many of you didn't know what a merkin was! Wow, I feel so worldly! I can't even remember how I came by that piece of knowledge myself.**

**And no… I don't own one!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Saturday - June 16th 2012 - 8:30pm<em>**

To say I'm pleasantly surprised that my date with Mike is going well would be a vast understatement.

Our dinner at Xinh's was divine. We thoroughly enjoyed the pan-fried oyster appetizers, and because we couldn't make up our minds, we decided to order different entrées to share. I ordered the seared salmon with sautéed vegetables and jasmine rice while Mike ordered the black tiger prawns with rice noodle vegetable salad. I've been astonished to discover we share a lot of the same tastes in food, music, movies, and books, and while there's absolutely no physical attraction between the two of us, whatsoever, he is actually a lot of fun to be around.

During dinner, he revealed Lauren had phoned him during the week. He had been somewhat cautious at first when he'd spoken with her as he was worried that she wanted to take Tyler away to live with her and her new man. However, as it turned out, Lauren hadn't run away with another man after all. Shortly after Tyler's birth, Lauren developed symptoms of post-natal depression. Having grown up in the foster-care system, due to a mother who was mentally ill and physically abusive when she was off her medications, Lauren had fled from Mike and Tyler. She was ashamed and worried that if she stayed, she would harm her baby.

Eventually, Lauren sought help for depression and with counseling and medication, she could function well enough to do a few bookkeeping courses, which had allowed her to find employment. Now that Lauren was no longer on medication, she had contacted him to ask if he had opened up a savings account for Tyler as she wanted to deposit a sum of money that she had saved up for him. She also wanted to give Mike some money for supporting Tyler on his own for the last year. Mike mentioned he'd be meeting with Lauren tomorrow afternoon, after the Waterbabes class. I can see there is a big part of him that is still in love with Lauren. With Mike's awareness regarding the truth of the situation, I hope there is a way they can be together again with Tyler – to be a family.

And now we are standing in front of the cinema looking up at the display boards to see what movies are showing.

"Do any of these movies interest you?" Mike asks.

I shake my head. "To be honest, I don't actually feel like staring up at a big screen for two hours. I'm having a lot of fun talking with you. How about we go somewhere for a drink instead?"

"In that case, if you don't mind a drive into the city, there's a place where Lauren and I used to go to that's a lot of fun. It's called The Brotherhood Lounge. Have you heard of it?"

"Yeah, I know the place. Eric and I used to go there when they had movie nights on Sundays."

"Great. Let's head back to the car."


	62. Chapter 62

As soon as we walk into the '_Broho'_ Lounge, Mike and I make our way toward the bar. The place is absolutely packed to the rafters. At the door, we were asked to donate to tonight's fundraiser event, for the rehabilitation center of The Good Samaritan Hospital, in order to help them to purchase more equipment. We were also informed that The Brotherhood Lounge will be donating the profits made from tonight's bar and menu.

After ordering our drinks, we find a booth to sit in. The place is quite dark with its black ceiling and burgundy red walls and curtains. Music is playing loudly, colored lights are flashing, and the lively crowd is sweating and dancing to a playlist that seems to be predominantly from the 80s. Video screens on either side of the deejay play the old music videos. After drinking two glasses of wine, I'm feeling warm and relaxed. As Blondie's 'Atomic' starts to play, I pull Mike onto the dance floor.

-oo0oo-

I shout in Mike's ear, to be heard over the volume of the music and the crowd that sings along. "The songs they're playing tonight remind me of when I was just a little kid,"

"Why's that?"

"My mom left my dad in 1986 when I was just five years old. Our neighbor's daughter, Charlotte, was sixteen, and she used to babysit me a lot. We used to listen to her cassette tapes, and she would let me jump up and down on her bed to the music while she read magazines and gushed over how hot the guys in Duran Duran were."

He laughs. "Well at least the music was better back then than it is today. Everything has been ruined by auto-tune processors. It's all so fake sounding."

"Absolutely! It all sounds like shit these days. I blame Cher."

"Why?"

"Cher was the one who made auto-tune popular. 'Believe,' was the first hit song to use the effect. It's her fault people like Kesha exist. I hate that 'Tik Tok' song."

"Ugh – I agree."

"Hey, I gotta use the bathroom, and then I'll need another drink. How about you?" I ask. Mike nods. "Meet me back at the booth?" He nods again, and I make my way through the crowd to the ladies room.

While I'm in the bathroom, I hear someone talking loudly on her phone in the next stall. She has a voice that could make Janice Litman-Garelnick from 'Friends,' sound soothing.

"Guess who I'm with?" she sing-songs nasally into the phone. There is a pause and then she continues, "Yeah, and it's our third date, so you _know_ what that means… I'm not sure why he brought me to this bar tonight, but I'm gonna tell him that I want to leave soon. I've got a special surprise waiting for him at home." When the woman laughs, she sounds like a braying donkey.

**({'}) **_Whoever he is, I hope he's profoundly deaf or wears earplugs!_

She flushes the toilet and exits the stall about a minute before I do. I exit the stall, and while I wash my hands, the blonde bimbo with a set of ridiculously fake tits is still talking about her love-life on the phone and staring at her reflection in the mirror. Whomever she is talking about, he sounds like an idiot who made a deal with the Devil. When I move to the paper towel dispenser, she ends her call and exits the bathroom.

**({'})** _Ewww. Bitch didn't even wash her hands. That's just nasty._

Making my way across the dancefloor towards the booth, a large hand roughly grabs hold of my upper arm and swings me around. I smell him before I even see his face.

Green apple, grapefruit, basil, sage, jasmine and patchouli. He's ruined Hugo Boss's 'Man' for me forever. New Order is playing in the background, and everything in my vision becomes focused on the person standing before me.

**_Oh, you've got green eyes  
>Oh, you've got blue eyes<br>Oh, you've got grey eyes_**

"Long time, no see, Bella." He smiles as if we are long lost friends.

"E-"

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Lyrics from - Temptation – by New Order.**


	63. Chapter 63

**({'})** _What in the Hell is he doing here?_

It's my fucking douche-bag of an ex-fiancé.

"Eric," I say in a not-too-pleased-to-see-you tone.

"Belly!" he replies as if he's happy to see me, but the happy mood is not mutual.

I scowl. "You don't get to call me that name anymore, so cut the bullshit."

"Aww. Don't be such a moody bitch. Why can't we just let bygones be bygones?" He leans in to kiss me on the mouth.

I hold up my arm just in time to block his advance, and his lips end up coming in contact with the back of my wrist instead.

**({'})** _Is he fucking insane?_

"Are you fucking insane?" I growl.

"_What_?" he replies, shaking his head in confusion as if I'm making a huge fuss over something entirely trivial. His arrogance is unbelievable.

"Need I remind you that you cheated on _me_ when _we_ were engaged – and with a man, no less! Not only did you cheat, _you_ had unprotected sex! You could have put my life in danger you selfish fuck. Do you have _any_ idea how embarrassing and frightening it was for me? During the six-month window period where I had to undergo a barrage of undignified tests, I lay awake at night, wondering if you might've transmitted some kind of sexual disease on to me. Then you had me wondering why I wasn't enough for you – what it was about me that drove you into the arms, or should I say _ass_, of a man."

People are starting to notice our altercation in the middle of the dance floor. Eric still has a firm grasp of my upper arm, and I try to shrug out of his grip, but he holds on tight.

"You still think that badly of me? So you won't ever forgive me? That makes me feel sad that you feel that way."

Un-fucking-believable. Some people never change. Everything always has to be about _him_.

"Since when does my opinion count for anything in your little self-absorbed world? You barely cared about what I thought or needed when we were together, so my opinion should mean even less to you now. If it's forgiveness you're looking for, go and see a preacher and then move the fuck on. I did."

"Oh, come on." Eric rolls his eyes in derision. "We had some good times. You seemed happy enough when we were together."

"You were lying to me the whole damn time! I thought I was happy, but when I finally kicked you out, I soon came to realize that the only reason I didn't do it sooner was because I was just too scared to be on my own. I put up with all of your bullshit and selfish ways for so long that I forgot what a normal relationship was. I forgot who _I_ was. I gave you everything, but you were just a taker – materially, emotionally, _and_ physically."

"Physically?" he asks, appearing confused.

Eric truly is a moron. I try to pull out of his grip again, but he's holding on too tightly. It's to the extent that it's beginning to hurt.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you right here in public? Fine! You were lousy in bed! You wanted to know; are you happy now? In the three years we were together, I came as many times a year as the IKEA catalogue! At the time, I just told myself that sex wasn't everything, but I was just too downtrodden to ask for what I wanted. You'd already told me, in no uncertain terms, what you would and wouldn't do for me. Now let me go you stupid fucking cocksucker."

A sinister expression passes over Eric's face as if he's about to yell at me, but his demeanor inexplicably changes into something else. He instantly releases his grip, and I stumble backwards. A pair of strong, masculine hands grip my waist and pull me back up against a warm, hard body. A set of soft lips start to kiss along the sensitive area on my neck, just below my ear. Warm skin with a hint of stubble brushes up against my jaw. Silky soft hair tickles the skin at my cheek. Sweet breath, scented with spearmint, permeates my nostrils along with the heady fragrance of my favorite cologne. A luscious, warm voice, like molten caramel sauce, speaks and turns me into a whimpering puddle of goo.

"There you are, my Bella. I was beginning to worry that you got lost, so I came to find you. What took you so long to come back to me?"

**({'})** _…_


	64. Chapter 64

"Edward?" my voice squeaks in surprise as he wraps his arms around my waist.

He buries his nose into the crook of my neck and squeezes me tightly as if it's a perfectly natural and normal thing for him to do. He then hums along to 'Echo And The Bunnymen', all the while completely ignoring Eric, who is standing and staring at the two of us in astonishment.

**_She floats like a swan  
>grace on the water<br>Lips like sugar  
>Lips like sugar.<em>**

My mind barely registers Eric's presence, when he speaks up. "Bella? Aren't you going to introduce us?"

It's kind of hard to concentrate on anything else but the feeling of Edward's body as he starts to sway us with the rhythm of the music. His hips ever so slightly brush across the small of my back and the swell of my ass. It's taking every ounce of strength within me to quell the uncontrollable desire I have to arch my spine and push my ass backward to grind against him. I desperately need the friction.

"Bella?" Eric huffs in annoyance because I'm ignoring him. He's always hated to be ignored.

Edward and I are oblivious. We are alone in our own private bubble, and I feel weightless. I'm floating, and I'm flying. My hand lifts up to rest on the back of Edward's head, and my fingers slide through the strands of his silky-soft hair. In response, he sighs in contentment. The sensation of his warm breath as it fans across my neck causes heat to suffuse my body. He places a lingering open-mouthed kiss on the skin of my collarbone, which thanks to the scoop-neck blouse I'm wearing, is exposed to his lips, teeth, and tongue. His toe-curling kiss causes a lightning bolt of lust to jolt from within my breasts. From my breasts, it arcs deeply inside my belly, before finally nestling within my clit.

My eyes close and my mouth parts. I'm so incredibly turned on that I shiver with desire. Libby is erratically pulsing within, and my achingly-hard nipples are straining against the filmy lace cups of my bra. Goose-flesh causes every minute hair on my skin to stand on end.

"Bella?" Eric asks again.

Edward growls in annoyance. He loosens his hold around my waist and finally stands to his full height so he can acknowledge my asshole ex. Edward's hands remain resting on my waist, but his body is still firmly pressed against my back. I attempt to stay in control and try to regulate my breathing. The air in my lungs seems to swell, and I release it in a shuddering exhalation. When Edward's long index and middle fingers lightly begin to circle the crests of my hip bones, my knees almost buckle beneath me. Everything within my body craves his touch; however, above all else, there is one place within me that hungers for those circling fingers.

Eric decides to introduce himself and holds out his hand in a dominant posture. "Hi, I'm Eric. I'm an old flame of Belly's, and you are?"

"Not fucking interested," Edward says in a bored tone, and then he places a lingering kiss on my temple before turning to face Eric again. His tone then becomes slightly menacing. "If I ever see you touch Bella or any other woman against her will, I will see to it that you'll never be able to touch anyone; not even yourself. Do you understand?"

Eric gasps, and the humiliated expression on his face makes him look as though he's been physically cheek-slapped.

My spine is tingling. Libby is an incoherent quaking wreck, and my panties are absolutely, positively, soaking wet.

**({'}) **_Sorry – can't be helped. There seems to be an awful lot of testosterone in the air._

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Lyrics from - ****Lips Like Sugar – by Echo And The Bunnymen.******


	65. Chapter 65

Ignoring Eric, Edward turns me around to face him, and it's then that I can actually take in his appearance. Damn it. He is the Devil in disguise. He's all in black.

Starting at his feet, I see he's wearing a pair of Dr. Marten shoes and black selvedge-denim jeans. A black, deeply V-necked, Henley shirt is molded to his upper body, and its long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. The buttons of the Henley are undone, and at my eye level, the sight of Edward's exposed collarbones makes my fingers tingle and twitch. I consciously have to stop myself from reaching out to touch them. Then there's the two day-old stubble on his jaw and the wondrous sex hair.

**({'}) **_We're not worthy. We're not worthy._

The song changes and wordlessly he takes the lead because I'm just standing and staring at him like an idiot. He presses his hands gently against the sides of my hips to sway me in time to the music. Too afraid to touch him where I'd like to (ass, crotch, pecs) my fingers grip the soft, bunched up fabric of his shirt, just above his elbows.

Edward's fingers release my hips to run along my forearms until he is holding onto my hands. I almost moan when the pads of his thumbs start to caress my palms as he guides my fingers upwards, so they come to rest on either side of his neck. Just beneath the collar of his shirt, I can feel the smooth texture of his skin and the way his Trapezius muscles relax as he lowers his hands to grasp my hips once again. Curious to know if Eric is still standing behind me, I attempt to turn around, but Edward shakes his head.

"Don't worry. He's gone for now, but maybe you should just stay here with me for a while – just to be safe," he clarifies.

I nod in compliance before squeaking out a barely audible, "Okay."

The magical thumbs are once again circling over the skin of my bare hips, and it's maddening. His middle and forefingers are stroking the skin at the small of my back, just above the waistband of my low-rise jeans.

Occasionally, an investigating finger dips lower. It skims over the top of my jeans, down to my ass, before ascending to the safety of what is publicly respectable.

**({'})** _Bella? Is Edward actually checking to see if we are wearing panties?_

Considering he's caught me _going commando_ a couple of times, it's a reasonable question.

"I know what you're doing, Edward Cullen," I say as I narrow my eyes in suspicion. He thinks he's being secretive in his movements, but I know his game.

"Is that so?" he replies, and he gives me a smirk and raises a single sexy eyebrow in question. "What exactly am I doing to you, Bella Swan?"

If only he knew what his touch was doing to me; however, I'm not going to say it out loud.

"Let's just say I'm covered, and there won't be a repeat of last night's full-moon, okay?"

He lets out a deep, rich chuckle, and I roll my eyes at him.

"So you don't make it a regular habit to flash your arse at people in parking lots then?"

"Absolutely not! Last Sunday wasn't my fault, and last night was just… err… complicated. In fact, I'm really sorry you had to see that."

He laughs again and then his lips move close to my ear. He murmurs lowly, "I'm not sorry at all, although, thanks to you, I hardly slept a bloody wink."

I pull back and look at him in confusion. "Why's that?"

He leans in to speak next to my ear again. "Because thinking about what I saw in that Walgreen's parking lot kept me up… _all night long_." Edward pulls back and looks at me; then he fucking winks.

**({'}) **_Uh… _

**({'}) **_Oh, damn._

_*clench* *spasm* *twitch* *flutter*_

_*boom*_

_*boom* _

_*whimper*_

**({'}) **_Help... Drowning._


	66. Chapter 66

Edward's playful attitude changes in an instant, and he removes his hands from my hips. I look at him, feeling confused, but watch as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Holding the phone to his right ear, he uses his left hand to cover the other ear and yells into the phone to be heard over the music.

"Mum?...

"Yeah, of course I'm still here; I was just dancing with Bella.

"What?

"Um…" He looks around over the heads of the other dancers.

"I don't know…. don't really care, either.

"Whatever...

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten.

"All right, I'll see you out back in a minute." He puts the phone back into his pocket.

"I'm sorry, but I have this thing I'm supposed to do after the next song. I have to make a speech with my family to thank everyone for contributing to the fundraiser."

"Oh, okay. Well, thanks for the rescue and the dance. I should find Mike. He's probably wondering what's become of me."

"Ah, yes, Mike. I see…"

I turn my gaze to search the room for any sign of Mike while The Smith's song reverberates around the club.

**_I am the son, and the heir  
>Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar<em>**

After a minute of searching, Edward gently grabs my wrist and then holds my hand warmly between both of his. The heat of his hands is quite distracting.

"Um… look. Can I talk to you later? he asks. "This thing I have to do shouldn't take too long."

Common sense tells me to say, "_No_," however, I feel drawn to him, and I wonder why he wants to talk with me. Although Edward had appeared from nowhere, like some sort of avenging angel to save me from my demon ex-fiancé, there was something more in the way he'd interacted with me. I'm sure it's not just my imagination running wild. It wasn't just an act for the benefit of ridding me of Eric's unwanted advances. It was in the way he'd spoken to me, the not-so-innocent things he said and the blatant innuendo. And then there were the touches and kisses. They were all beyond the call of duty.

_What to do? _I'm conflicted. Edward_ 'he's married-he's-married-he's-married'_ Cullen is no good for me. In fact, I'm certain he's bad. Very, _very_ bad. Why, oh why, do I always find myself addicted to the bad things in life – especially bad-boy Edward, who had made me wet just by threatening to dis-arm my ex. I can feel my resolve wavering. The magnetic pull between us is just so damn strong. But…

**({'})** _Oh, for fuck sake! Annnnnnnnd here we go…_

Edward _is_ married. It's an obstacle I just can't overlook.

**({'})** _He only said he wants to talk – not take you out the back so he can fuck you up against a wall._

I feel as though I lose control of my sensibilities when I'm around him. I should step away.

**({'})** _I swear to God, when you fall asleep tonight I'm going to find your conscience and stab it to death with a crochet needle._

I really shouldn't; He's temptation.

Edward is looking at me expectantly. It seems I'm taking too long to answer.

**({'})** _Jesus, Bella, just answer the man. Either go hard or go home._

"Okay."

"Yeah?" he asks, although I'm not sure what he's talking about.

**({'})** _Er… Bella? You do realize you just spoke out loud, right? You just agreed to meet with him._

I did? Oops. Shit!

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Lyrics from How Soon Is Now - by The Smiths.**_


	67. Chapter 67

"You will?" He smiles softly and exhales in relief.

I find myself nodding in answer.

"Great. That's… great. Where can I meet you?" he asks anxiously.

Subtly, I need to remind him that I'm not here alone.

"Mike and I have a booth. It's the one just under the picture of JFK." I point to our seats, but I can't see Mike there.

He nods. "Okay. I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."

I expect him to leave right away, but instead, he lifts my left hand to his cheek and moves his mouth to place a kiss on my palm… and then another kiss… and another.

When his teeth lightly nip the pad of flesh at the base of my thumb, I struggle for breath as another lightning bolt of lust arcs from the skin of my palm, reigniting the carnal ache between my legs. His hooded eyes burn me with their intensity as he moves my hand – placing it in such a way that I'm cupping the side of his well-defined, scruffalicious jaw. He sighs longingly, and his eyes flutter to a close as I move my thumb just below his lower lip. Although I can't hear his voice over the loud music, I understand every word. "_I don't want to go_."

Involuntarily, my right hand seems to find a new home, resting just above the level of his heart. We start to sway with the music.

_Is his heart racing just as fast and erratic as my own?_ I wonder. Moving my left hand ever so slightly along his jaw line, I start fantasizing about the way his delicious stubble might feel if it rasped against the skin of my inner thighs. While his eyes are still closed, I also note his eyelashes are incredibly long. _With his face in my cleavage,_ _I bet they'd feel incredible against my skin, too. _My panties are completely ruined.

As if he can read my mind, he opens his eyes, and our gazes lock. I can only stare back in bewilderment at the intensity I see there. I have no words to say – only embarrassing sounds that need to be reined in.

**({'})** _Whoa… Okay, I fully retract my previous statement. I think Edward may actually want to fuck you against a wall._

Fuck. Me. Nothing good can come of this. I'm so royally screwed.

The moment is interrupted when Edward's phone rings once again, and he rolls his eyes in exasperation. He gives me an apologetic look as he brings the phone up to his ear.

"_Later?_" he mouths, and I nod in acceptance.

He kisses me on the back of my hand and then gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear before turning away. Plunging through the crowd of dancing bodies, he yells into his phone.


	68. Chapter 68

The music changes to an upbeat rhythm. It's a song I recall from the 'Valley Girl' soundtrack. I turn and head in the direction of our booth, only to find Mike is still not there. My eyes scan the room, and I come upon the dancing figures of Jake Black and Leah Clearwater. They are wrapped around each other, and Leah's cheek is resting against Jake's broad chest. She looks to be over the moon with happiness. Jake and I catch each other's gazes simultaneously, and I decide to walk toward him so I can ask if he's seen Mike lately.

"Hey, Jake – Leah, you guys look like you're having fun."

"Yeah we are. I hear you are the one I need to thank for coercing me into a date with Leah – not that I'm complaining, Angry-Bald-Beaver." Jake smiles broadly at Leah, and they share a giggle.

"Leah," I whine, "please tell me that you did not spill the beans to Jake about our... emergency introduction last night."

Just one look at the two of them tells me that Leah sang like a damn canary.

"Aww come on, don't be too embarrassed," Jake says in mock-sympathy.

"That's easy for you to say, Chief Dances-With-Wolves-In-Sheep's-Clothing. You don't have, Princess Runs-At-The-Mouth spreading all of your personal details to all and sundry."

Jake and Leah laugh hysterically. Traitors.

"Anyway, I was just wondering if you've seen Mike Newton anywhere – I need to find him."

Jake stands tall and surveys the crowd. "Is he wearing a dark-blue shirt?"

I nod, and turn to see where Jake is looking. About fifteen feet away, I can just make out the physique of Mike. He's tightly pressed against the body of a tall, blonde with massive tits. She has to be a solid two inches taller than him.

From the shiny, black fabric of the too-short dress, I realize he's dancing with the nasty bimbo I had encountered in the ladies room.

**({'})**_ I hope for Mike's sake he's not as much into kissing and nibbling hands as Edward seems to be._

Just remembering what Edward had done to my hand, sends yet another wave of lust flooding through me. I move through the crowd, and when I'm within five feet of the dancing couple, I see his horrified expression.

"_Help me!_" Mike mouths.

The blonde is firmly holding Mike's cheek against her bosom; the fingers of her left hand are aggressively entwined in the hair at the base of his skull. Her other hand is pressed firmly like a suction cup to the cheek of his ass.

I must convey my confusion at the situation rather well. Mike makes a gesture to indicate to his own Adam's apple, and then in panic, he points to the blonde.

**({'})** _Oh dear…_


	69. Chapter 69

And there it is – a prominent Adam's apple. I can see perfectly what Mike is referring to, now that blondie's one-inch wide, black and white cameo choker has slipped sideways around her neck – or should I say his neck. Over the sound of 'Melt With You', I can hear Libby humming a tune. It's Aerosmith's, 'Dude (Looks Like A Lady).'

If I was observing anyone else but Mike in this predicament; I'd continue to stand here and laugh my ass off. However, he appears to be positively terrified. Since Mike has been nothing but friendly to me, I decide that I'm going to take a leaf out of Edward's play book, and I'm going to rescue my very own dude-in-distress. I walk over to Mike and Blondie, and I tap her – him – on the shoulder.

"Excuse me; may I cut in, please? If you don't mind, I'd very much like to dance with my date," I say as politely as possible.

Blondie turns to face me and sneers. "You snooze you lose, honey. I saw this poor boy looking lost and lonely while you were over there getting pawed at by Mr. Sex-On-Legs. You can't have your cake and eat it, too. He's _mine_ now."

**({'})** _Exsqueeze me? Baking my powder? Who the hell does this bitch think she is – he is – or what-the-fuck-ever? I say it's time to break out your inner bitch, Bella. End this. Now!_

I take a deep breath and steel myself. "I think you misunderstood me, _honey_. My date isn't into sucking cock; so why don't you just save yourself the inevitable rejection and toddle off in your Louboutin knockoffs."

"These pumps aren't knockoffs, bitch. They're the real deal."

The laughter bubbles up from the back of my throat. This person is utterly deluded.

"As far as I know, Louboutins don't come in a size 13. Your shoes are about as fake as your ridiculously lopsided tits. Now, I asked you nicely, but you decided to ignore me, so this is me asking you not-so-nicely to get your fucking filthy hands off my date!"

While managing to maintain a firm grip on Mike's hair, the blonde turns in my direction and menacingly towers over me.

"Make me," Blondie taunts.

I notice Mike is starting to wince in pain, so I decide to repay the favor in kind. I grab Blondie by the hair – only to have it come away with my hand. In my fright, I quickly toss the blonde wig away from me and watch in fascination as it flutters down and lands on the chest of Jake Black. I was unaware Jake and Leah were standing there, watching us the whole time.

Blondie – or should I say, the brunette transvestite who's been left wearing a beige, nylon stocking wig cap, quickly realizes that the chest rug Jake's now sporting is, in fact, his wig. He releases Mike's hair and lunges towards Jake. Before the tranny can retrieve the wig, Leah quickly grabs it and proceeds to hold it aloft like a battle trophy. It's somewhat surreal that this is the second time in the last 24 hours that I've seen Leah holding up a pelt of hair before me.

**({'})** _At least it's not mine this time._

Leah lets out a war whoop and then turns, running into the crowd. Jake follows closely behind her, and performs what looks to be a tribal war dance.

**({'})** _Wow! That is just so… politically incorrect._

I know, right?

Before I can revel in my victory, I'm winded, dazed, and flat on my back. The transvestite, formally known as Blondie, is straddling my hips and his hands are around my throat.


	70. Chapter 70

Mike, having found his balls, puts the transvestite into a headlock, and he tries to get my attacker off me. Things are beginning to get hazy, and the pain in the back of my head is excruciating. In a last-ditch effort, I dig my fingernails into the tranny's wrists, but his hands are too strong.

All at once, I can breathe again, and I draw in a raspy breath, but then I'm forcefully pulled up from the floor by a massive mountain of a man. The bouncer, who is roughly the size and build of a WWE wrestler, slings me over his shoulder, and then heads for the front door. I look up from the view of the bouncer's ass, and behind us, I can see two more bouncers. They are manhandling the transvestite who is pitching an absolute shit-fit and is screaming out for someone called 'Ricky'. Mike follows close behind, and he's giving me a concerned look. To make matters worse, I notice Eric is behind Mike. He seems to be heading for the front door, too.

Once we are out on the pavement, the bouncer unceremoniously dumps me into Mike's arms. Mike sets my feet on the ground, and proceeds to look curiously at the back of my head. I see Eric heading in the direction of the tranny, and I watch on in disbelief as he opens his arms widely to embrace him.

"Are you okay, Sammy, baby? What on Earth happened?"

"Don't you _dare_ touch me, and don't call me 'baby'! I should have listened. I should have known better than to trust you. Alistair was right all along; you're nothing but a Bungie Boy, Ricky."

**({'})** _Ricky?_

The transvestite known as, Sammy, gestures to me.

"I saw you with _her._ Did you suddenly forget you were meant to be on a date with me? You were chatting up a woman, for Christ's sake. You're unbelievable – just so fucking unbelievable! I was warned by Alistair that you would break my heart, but I thought things could be different between you and me. I am such an idiot!" he screams.

Sammy turns and storms off in a huff, which would have been a fairly dramatic departure, except for the part where the left heel on his Louboutin knockoffs decides to choose that particular moment to reveal its true value by snapping in half. Sammy pauses, takes off the broken heel, and then pitches it at Eric's head before resuming his up-down walk of shame away from The Broho Lounge. Eric follows but keeps his distance.

The stupid fucker.

**({'}) **_It looks as though Eric is still up to his old tricks. I hope he ends up with something horrendous, like Neurosyphilis, and then I hope his pee-pee shrivels up, falls off, and he accidentally flushes it down the toilet._

With all the dramatics set aside, I turn to look at Mike who is unbuttoning the front of his shirt. While it isn't overly chilly, it's certainly not warm enough to be walking about in a sleeveless undershirt.

"What are you doing?"

"There's a nasty cut at the back of your head. I need to put this against the wound to stop the bleeding."

"What?" I reach back to feel the part of my scalp that stings. Sure enough, there is a patch of moisture, and when I look at my hand it's covered in blood.

"Here, put this against the wound," he instructs. He guides me to hold the wadded up shirt against the back of my head. "Are you okay to walk the two blocks to the car, or do you need me to carry you?"

**({'})** _What? We can't leave! What about Edward? _

Shit! Edward is going to wonder what happened to me. He'll think I'm rejecting him again. I make my way back to the entrance of The Broho, but the bouncers block my path.

"I need to get back in," I explain to the impassive faces of the bouncers who somehow manage to double themselves in size.

"Go home, _Miss_. This establishment doesn't want troublemakers like you," one of the bouncers says.

"But you don't understand. There's a man in there, and I urgently need to talk to him. If you could just tell Edward Cullen that Bella is outside, I'm sure he'll come and speak with me," I explain. "This whole incident has been a huge misunderstanding."

"Come on, I think I should take you to a hospital. The cut appears deep enough to require medical treatment to stop the bleeding," Mike says with concern from behind me.

"No! I can't leave. Not until I speak with Edward!"

"Listen up, _lady_, here's a bit of free advice," says the other bouncer. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you do as your boyfriend asks, or we'll ring the police, and then they can take you away handcuffed in the back of a cop car. It's your choice."

"Please, we need to go," Mike begs. "There's a lot of blood back here. I'm seriously worried."

I want to cry. If only Alice was here. She would understand my predicament. She'd find a way to get back in the club, or would at least manage to get a message to Edward. I just wish I had my phone with me, so I could call Alice. She'd be able to access the customer database of the aquatic center from home, and then she'd tell me his cell number.

"Let's go," Mike urges, and then he picks me up and starts to carry me towards the car.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lay my head on his shoulder. I succumb to the stark reality that I won't get a chance to talk to Edward tonight. I won't get the opportunity to explain what just happened. I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow's swimming lesson. I can only hope he'll understand.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Bungie Boy = Straight-acting, but gay or bi-guy.**


	71. Chapter 71

**_Sunday - 17th June 2012 - 3:00am._**

It's the middle of the night, and weirdly, I've woken up. Usually, I sleep like the dead from the time my head hits the pillow until the time my alarm blares to wake me up. There's a mild stinging sensation at the back of my head, and I feel really strange. Tingly. For some unknown reason, I'm panting and feel incredibly horny. The exquisite ache between my legs is almost unbearable, as though I'm on the very edge of an orgasm.

**({'})** _Oh, fucking_ s_hit. Why did you choose this moment to wake up?_

Confused, I roll onto my side, turn on the light, and sit on the edge of my bed. I stare at my ridiculously large mirror and note that Libby is standing next to me. For some reason, she's dressed up in a sexy, little black dress, and her hair is a bit wet. Her arms are folded in front of her, and she's pouting. It's a little disconcerting when she manifests because she looks a lot like me.

"What's your problem, Libby?"

**({'}) **_Nothin'…_

"Don't lie. I heard what you said, and it's obvious you're sulking about something. What were you doing?"

**({'}) **_I was just having a small get-together with a few of the girls from the Limbic System_.

"What? You mean – in my brain?"

**({'}) **_Yeah. _

"And who exactly was at this get-together?"

**({'}) **_Amy, Cleo, Tex, and Hippocampus._

"Okay, I understand that the Hippocampus is a part of my brain, but the others aren't."

**({'}) **_Yes they are! You'd commonly know them as your__ Amygdalae, Nucleus Accumbens, and Insular Cortex. Amy, Cleo, and Tex are just their nicknames. _

"So why doesn't Hippocampus have a nickname?"

**({'}) **_She says it makes her sound fat if people call her 'Hippy'. _

"Right… So what exactly were the five of you doing in the middle of the night?"

Taking a seat next to me, Libby pulls out a packet of cigarettes and lights one. After blowing out a puff of smoke, she reclines on the bed and begins.


	72. Chapter 72

**({'}) **_Your__ Amygdalae is the pleasure center of your brain. Basically, Amy liaises with the rest of the Limbic System. She's sort of a supervisor, I guess. The role of your Nucleus Accumbens concerns your ability to feel emotions, and your Insular Cortex is the part of your brain involved with the active seeking of pleasures associated with food, drugs and sex. Basically, you can blame Tex for your chocolate, coffee, cigarette, and fanfiction addictions. _

"I see. So what does the Hippocampus do?"

**({'}) **_Oh, _s_he's super important. She's the part of your brain that remembers senses._

"And why is that so important?"

**({'}) **_Think about the taste of strawberries or lemons, or evoke the memory of the sweet and salty tang of a lover's skin as you kiss and lick it. Can you remember the flavors of the things you like to taste, and don't they make your mouth water?_

"I suppose."

**({'}) **_Recall that moment of lust at first sight. What happens when you see something that turns you on? You fantasize about it sometime later when you are alone, don't you?_

I nod.

**({'})** _The scent of your favorite men's cologne. When you think about it, does it bring forth to your mind the face of the person you associate it with? And doesn't it make you feel something, even though he's nowhere near you right now?_

An image of Edward in a tailored, black suit comes to mind as I reminisce about our encounter in the hospital cafeteria. I had detected the scent of Dolce and Gabbana's '_The One_' on his skin, and just thinking about it now causes desire to ignite low inside my belly. Looking at Libby, I nod again.

**({'})** _Do you remember the texture of his shirt in your hands as you danced with him; the smooth skin at the base of his neck? Can you recall the teasing caresses of his thumbs on your hips; the tone of his dirty, whispered words as he told you about how he was, 'Up all night,' because he'd been thinking about you the night before?"_

"Yes," I whimper.

**({'}) **_Well, all of those types of sensual memories are down to Hippocampus, and she is the most crucial part of the Limbic System when it comes to sex dreams._

"Sex dreams? So, that's what was going on? The five of you were responsible for a sex dream?"

**({'}) **_Yep. Tex makes you need it. Cleo makes you want it. Hippocampus brings the porn, and Amy provides the venue._

"And what about you?"

**({'}) **_I supply the grand finale, if you get my drift._

"Is that why you're wet?"

**({'}) **_Do you even remember what you were dreaming about, just before you so rudely woke up and interrupted us?_

Libby stubs out her cigarette on the sole of her shoe. She disappears for a moment and returns with a big bucket of popcorn and a remote control device. As soon as she presses a button on the remote, the dream plays before me like a movie reel.


	73. Chapter 73

_I'm sitting in a boat in the middle of the swimming pool. With my fishing line cast over the side, I wait patiently. Silence surrounds me, and I'm alone._

_Or maybe I'm not._

_The water below begins to swirl, and I look over the side of the boat. I'm curious to understand the cause. I see what appears to be a fin break the surface. Too late to draw back, the fin playfully smacks against the top of the water, and it causes a large splash to hit me in the face._

_Incensed, I reach my free hand for the paddle, only to find it's floating some feet away from the boat. A face emerges from the water, and I realize it's Edward. I hadn't recognized it was him at first because his normally chaotic bronze hair is slicked back with moisture. His hair almost appears to be black in color. After grabbing the paddle, he swims toward me._

_He asks, "Is this what you were after, Bella?" As he hands the paddle back to me, his eyes are glinting with mischief, and a hint of a smirk plays on his lips._

"_I should beat you with it. You made me so wet," I complain halfheartedly._

_He lets out a deep, melodic laugh and says, "I like knowing that I make you wet, and I bet I can make you even wetter."_

_Grabbing a hold of my fishing line, he tugs it down roughly, and it causes me to pitch sideways out of the boat and into the water. My layers of heavy clothing instantly weigh me down, and I sink to the bottom of the pool. I seem to struggle for several minutes as I attempt to open the buttons of my pea coat. It feels as heavy as lead._

_Edward moves into my field of vision, and he quickly undresses me until I'm only wearing my navy-blue, one-piece swimsuit. My oxygen starved brain screams at me, telling me that I must take a breath to survive. Sensing my need, he places his mouth over my own. He exhales a breath that fills my lungs with life-giving air. He then begins to propel us both towards the surface, and my legs instinctively wrap their way around his waist for the journey. _

_Our faces break the surface, and although my head is no longer under water, I refuse to remove my mouth from his. Instead, I take in a large breath of air through my nose. Edward is the one to break our kiss._

"_I'm sorry," he says breathlessly._

"_I'm not," I reply, and I kiss him once more. Pulling back to look at him, I ask, "Are you a Merman, Edward?" _

"_No." He grins._

"_Are you an Encantado then? Have you come to take me away forever?"_

"_Silly girl," he chides playfully. He reaches down into the water and brings a pair of gray swim-fins to the surface. He then tosses them into the boat. _

"_Thank you for saving me."_

_He smiles and then he moves in order to place open-mouthed kisses along the column of my neck. Goosebumps erupt over the surface of my skin, and I tremble at the sensation of his lips on me. My legs involuntarily tighten around his waist._

"_You're cold," he states. "We need to get you warm. Come with me."_

_He swims to the side of the pool, and I follow; however, as soon as I get out of the water, Edward is nowhere to be seen._


	74. Chapter 74

_As I climb the pool ladder, I look down at my feet. Lying on the floor next to the ladder is my old heavy pea coat. I pick it up to examine it and note it's torn, moldy, and smells offensive. I decide it was never a proper fit and realize I should never have held onto it for as long as I did, so I walk to the nearest trashcan and toss the coat away. I feel happier._

_With the old coat discarded, I search the empty aquatic center until I come upon the unlocked door of a room that is barred to the public. The aquatic center's steam room was once a shared facility with the gymnasium next door. When the gym closed down, Joe decided to close this part of the center; it was hardly worth the upkeep. Only the employees have access to this room now. The steam room is our own private haven; however, we are only permitted to use it after hours. Once or twice a month, Alice and I use the steam room for a quiet place to catch up with each other. Sometimes, I come in late at night after a long day at work to relax._

_Pulling on the handle, the door opens, and the humid mist escapes through the gap. I walk in and close the door behind me. As I move further into the steam room, I quickly discover I'm not the only person in here. A pair of familiar Adidas swim shorts lay discarded on the black, gray and white mosaic tiled floor. I contemplate picking them up when I hear a chuckle. Looking to find the source of the laugh, I see a shadowy form that appears to be sitting in the left-hand corner of the room. As the warm, wet air swirls around me, I take in a startled breath. It is then that his scent hits me. Edward is here. Before I can say anything, he speaks. _

_"Come sit with me, Bella?" _

_Slowly, I walk over to join him on one of the curved, mosaic-tiled benches that run along the length of three walls in the steam room. He is sitting in the corner with a white towel draped across his lap. His arms are resting comfortably over the curved back of the tiled benches on either side of him. _

_Built-in lights line the tiled walls. With only three of the lights working, the room is bathed in an eerie glow through the steam. Seated only two feet away from one of the lights, Edward's skin appears to shimmer due to the tiny rivulets of water and sweat that course their way down the ridges and planes of his body. I watch as a droplet of water falls from his chin, landing on the skin just above his navel. I feel an insane urge to lick him there; to drink the water from the surface of his skin, and I wonder if he tastes as good as he looks._

_I move to sit next to him, but he stops me by reaching out to take hold of my wrist. He then gently tugs me toward him and beckons for me to sit down between his parted thighs. Taking a seat, I feel his slightly cooler chest brushing against the top half of my back. He's leaning in close to me, although I'm sitting bolt upright on the edge of the tiled bench. _

"_You're not supposed to be here; no one else is allowed in here," I tell him nervously._

"_And yet, here I am," he murmurs next to my ear._


	75. Chapter 75

_Familiar feelings of self-doubt begin to creep into the back of my mind. _

_My heart is beating an erratic staccato rhythm. I'm feeling somewhat awkward, and I'm nervous as hell. I hardly even know what to do with myself – where to begin. I'm thirty, and I've only ever been with two men before. My lack of experience – when it comes to new sexual partners – makes me hesitant to initiate intimate contact. It's been two long years. Was I ever any good at this?_

_Sensing my apprehension, Edward says, "Leave the past in the past. It's time to do what you want. Take back some control and do what feels right. Do what comes naturally."_

_His words make the decision of what to do next an easy one. I place my hands on his knees. It seems a safe enough place to start. Drawing upon a semblance of confidence I don't even feel, I move my hands, gliding them back along the length of his thighs. Instinctively, the pads of my fingers and thumbs begin to brush and swirl over the hair and skin of his thighs as though I'm committing their texture to memory. _

_Feeling more courageous, my hands begin to stroke and massage his taut muscles. He moans in approval, and I tremble as I feel his warm breath against my shoulder._

_Using one of his hands, he gathers and tightly winds my long, damp hair around his fist. He kisses the newly exposed side of my neck before releasing his grasp on my hair, leaving it to spill over my right shoulder. He then places his own palms on the inside of my thighs, just above my knees. Mimicking the movements of my own fingers, he lightly caresses and kneads my skin. Starting at my left shoulder, he begins to place a series of kisses across the extent of my back, leisurely making his way across to my right shoulder._

_The low, scooped cut of my one-piece swimsuit means that the majority of my back is exposed to him. His mouth and hands languidly explore sensitive parts of my skin, and I feel my nipples hardening. A small gasp escapes me. I want more, but he seems to be in no hurry to move on. It's as if he is savoring the moment; savoring the taste and touch of my skin. It feels heavenly, but also maddening. Every time his teeth gently scrape and nibble on my neck, the sensation fires tingling arrows of desire straight through my breasts. It then plummets down to coil low in my belly before nestling within my clit. _

_Briefly, my breathing catches as his hands move higher along the insides of my thighs. I have to stop myself from digging my nails into his flesh. It's as hot as Hades in the steam room. I'm hot, wet, and feeling lightheaded. My heart is pounding so hard that it surely must be audible._

_While Edward is gently suckling at the hollow beneath my earlobe, he must decide that I'm too far away from him. Moving his hands from my inner thighs to my hips, he pulls me back sharply against him. A sense of womanly pride washes over me when I feel his towel clad erection pressed firmly against the small of my back._

_He's hard. Edward is extremely hard for me. I did that! The revelation makes me feel desired and sexy. Before I can contemplate my power over Edward's cock, my breathing falters once again. One of his hands has crept up from my hip to cup my breast. _

"_Oh," I breathe out wantonly. I try to say something more, but words are lost to me when Edward's thumb begins to circle and stroke my nipple over the fabric of my swimsuit. The pinch of his thumb and forefinger is my ultimate undoing, and I'm putty within his hand._

_I feel his lips graze against my earlobe as he whispers, "Does that feel good?"_

_I let out a breathy sigh. "Yes." _

_His other hand then moves to emulate its match, so that both thumbs and fingers are swirling and lightly pinching, tugging at my nipples. I moan, and my head falls back to rest against his collarbone._

"_Tell me you want this as much as I do."_

_I nod._

"_Say it."_

"_Yes." _

"_I want to touch you everywhere. I want to feel you come on my fingers and my tongue. I want to bury my cock deep inside of you, and I want to watch your face as you finally let go and lose all control." Then barely audible to my ears, his whispered voice asks, "Are you ready for me?"_

_"Please. I need you to make me come," I beg. "It's been so long – so long since I've been touched by someone else." _

_My back is arching, pressing and molding my breasts into his palms. If he stops touching me now, I'll probably die. Sliding my ass back further between his legs, I grind against him. He groans into the side of my neck. It's a powerful, low sound and the vibrations within his chest resonate through me. I feel his hands leave my breasts as his long fingers make their torturous ascent. _

_While my breasts momentarily mourn the loss of his hands, I'm panting in anticipation for what he will do next. His fingers trace along the sensitive skin that covers my collarbones and I shiver. Fingertips slowly move up to the bare skin of my shoulders until they meet with the straps of my swimsuit. He then utters a solitary word._

"_Off..."_

_It could be a question or a command, either way; the answer I give him is a breathy, "Yes."_

_His long, cool fingers dip below the fabric and push the swimsuit past my shoulders and down my arms until the straps are resting uselessly at my elbows. With no encouragement needed, I fully remove my arms from the swimsuit to allow him to peel off the rest of it. _

_As I stand to raise my bottom up, I feel his hands, large and strong, brushing against the sides of my hips as he tugs my swimsuit down. He dips his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss at the base of my spine, just above my ass. My knees begin to buckle, so he gently pulls me down onto his lap._

_Oh, God!_

_It's then I realize there is no longer a towel between us. I can feel Edward's cock against the crease of my ass. He's so hard – and long. I move slightly to settle in against his body, and I hear and feel him as he breathes out a shuddering breath against the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hand on my hip pulls me further onto him, and experimentally, I rock my hips. He releases another sharp breath, and I rock again. Possessively, he tightens his arm around my waist and thrusts his cock against my ass – Once. Twice. Three times. My breathing accelerates. The sexy moan that comes from deep within his throat causes a flood of arousal between my legs. _

_Touching his forefinger to my chin, he coaxes me to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are gazing into mine with such an intensity that I feel that they are burning; burning me deep down into my soul. And that's when I know I am his. I'll do anything he wants. I want him so much. If I had to, I'd even walk over hot coals just to be with him._

_"I adore your mouth. I need your lips," he murmurs as the fingers of his other hand begin to trace lightly along the skin from my hip, to my abdomen, and up towards my bare breasts._

_I crane my neck further to offer him my mouth, and he takes it. His lips move against mine, gently at first and then with a ferocious upsurge of passion. I moan at the increase in pressure of his lips against mine, and when I feel his tongue brushing gently against my bottom lip, silently begging me to let him in, my mouth willingly parts. The tip of his tongue meets mine without hesitation. I can taste him now, and it's like nothing I've ever experienced before. I feel as though I'd happily live off the sweet taste of him and him alone, for the rest of my existence. His taste is sweet – like sugar._

_As our tongues swirl and dance, a low noise once again emanates from the back of his throat, matching the intensity of the wanton moan that escapes from the pit of my belly when I feel his hand slide effortlessly along the damp skin of my abdomen, down to my bare, wet pussy. Desperate to intensify both the pressure and frequency of his feather-light touches that are teasing their way around my clit, I impatiently roll my hips as if I'm performing a lap-dance. More. More. More friction._

"_I need more. Please," I beg._

_On demand, his thumb presses down on my clit and he begins to rub and swirl. It causes sparks of longing to ignite into blistering flames of lust. My hand reaches back, and I thread my fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his head in my palm in an effort to find some way to anchor myself as I begin to rock my pussy against his hand and cock. _

_Blessed friction. It feels fantastic. So fucking good._

_When the grip of my hand in his hair tightens, he moans into my mouth and rhythmically begins to grind his cock against me – hard. He gently captures my lower lip between his lips and begins to suck on it. I feel my body tremble and my toes start to curl. _

_When he nibbles on my lip with his teeth just before releasing me from the kiss, it causes my eyes to roll back and close involuntarily. _

_The friction I receive from his thumb and cock feels amazing, but still – I want more. I need more. Parting my legs wider, I cover his hand with mine, and I buck against him, silently repositioning, urging him to plunge his cool fingers or his hot, hard cock deep inside of me. Removing his hand and ceasing all movements, he kisses me passionately. _

_I can't believe he's stopping this now. I'm horny and desperate to come. I start to panic._

"_Don't... I promise you, this is only the beginning, and I don't want to come yet; not like this," he says panting against my lips, before lifting me off his lap and placing me on the bench next to him. Moving down to the floor, he kneels before me in a position of worship. His palms glide along my inner thighs, starting at my knees, and finally coming to rest on either side of my pussy. _

_"Keep your pretty legs spread open for me. I want the sweet taste of your-"_

-oo0oo-

My eyes open wide in astonishment having just woken from an incredibly weird, but totally horny dream.

"N-n-nooooooo!" I whine as I punch my pillow in frustration. I wanna go back to the part of the dream with Edward in it. It can't just stop there! I was just about to get to the really good part.

Fuck my life. I mean, seriously, fuck my life.

Because even in my own sex dreams, I still miss out on having someone go down on me.


	76. Chapter 76

_**Sunday… 5am**_

"Arrrrgh!" I scream into the pillow.

**({'}) **_What's wrong now?_

"I have to be up for work in an hour, and I can't get back to sleep. It's all your fault, Libby. Stupid damn sex dream. What was the point of it all? Now I'm just horny and bothered."

**({'})** _Excuse me, but that wasn't just a sex dream. I think you're missing the big picture here._

"Oh, really?"

**({'})** _Yes, really. I don't think you fully comprehend the significance of what happened last night – of what's been happening to you over the past few weeks._

"What do you mean?"

**({'}) **_For so long, you held onto the false belief that there must have been something wrong with you – that it was because of you, specifically, that Eric ended up in bed with another person. And because the other person was a man, you thought it was because you were so lousy in the sack, so sexually inept that you turned him off all women. _

My throat starts to feel tight, and tears begin to burn at my eyes. Things I don't want to be reminded of begin to invade my memory.

**({'}) **_After the Eric fiasco, you put on a brave face and just pretended outwardly to the world that the breakup didn't rip your heart in two. You were so ashamed, and even to this day, besides you and Eric, the only other person who knows the truth of why you two broke up, is Alice, and you probably wouldn't have told her either, except that she managed to force out a confession. You couldn't even tell your own father the truth. Poor Charlie is still under the misapprehension that Eric wanted you to stay home barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen 24/7. He thinks you two broke up because you wanted a career and didn't want children right away._

"Yeah, I know…"

**({'}) **_T__o protect yourself, you closed your heart off to the possibility of ever falling in love again, and emotionally you became cold. You threw yourself into your work, both at the hospital and the aquatic center, using them as an excuse to avoid going out and meeting new people. Rather than going out, you stayed at home in the evenings, either in bed watching mind numbing TV informercials in order to fall asleep, or else crying your heart out while clutching onto your pillow. Though you felt so alone, you were too scared to move on – too scared to let another person have that level of control over your heart._

I feel frustrated. I don't know why Libby is dredging up all this stuff about my past.

"Libby, I fail to see what all of this stuff about Eric and our breakup has to do with a sex dream I had about a married man – or a potentially married man – or whatever."

**({'})**_ Don't you see? Last night after you confronted Eric, it was as though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. After you heard what Sammy said about Eric, you finally realized you weren't to blame for Eric cheating on you; the fault lay entirely with him. You can see that now, right? _

I shrug.

**({'}) **_For the first time in two years, you've finally let go of all the shame, guilt, insecurity, and grieving that has been holding you down and closed your heart off to the possibility of finding someone new. The pea coat, in the dream, it symbolized your relationship with Eric. Your subconscious is telling you that it's okay to let go of it because he was never right for you. The relationship was never healthy. It was built on lies from the very beginning because Eric was hiding who he was. He deceived you – he used you._

"I suppose you're right."

**({'}) **_Well of course I am! So, recently, someone new came into your life. And although, on the surface, it may seem he's unobtainable, your heart still responds to him, or at least the mere idea of someone like him, even though he seems to be too good to be true._

"So, is that why I asked Edward if he was mythical like a Merman or an Encantado?"

**({'}) **_Exactly! Except that the person you are seeking isn't necessarily Edward. It's just that you see things in him that you like. He's handsome, and he seems to be wonderful with babies. He has a close relationship with the mother of his child, and he's protective of women. But most of all, he seems to like you a lot, even though you're not quite sure why he's interested – beyond the fact he's a guy who probably only thinks with his penis._

"Which is sort of ironic really, given that I'm the one who's currently being life coached by my vagina."

**({'}) **_Anyway... This man, for whatever reason, has somehow broken through your defenses. He's managed to open your heart to the possibility of letting someone get close to you again. He's breathed new life into you, and he's shown you there are things you want for yourself; things you were too scared to ask for before, but you are determined to get them next time around._

"I see."

**({'}) **_H__ave you worked out what the steam room was in the dream?_

"It was my heart, right?"

**({'}) **_Correct. So now I've explained the dream, you can finally go back to sleep._

"Yeah, except we still have one small problem."

**({'}) **_Yeah… I know. We're still horny. _


	77. Chapter 77

_**Sunday - 17th June 2012 - 7:35am.**_

"See you later, you evil bribing bastard," I say teasingly, and then I stick out my tongue.

Through the open car window, Mike gives me a quick grin and waves before driving out of the aquatic center parking lot. He's heading home to grab a few hours of sleep before coming back with Tyler at 11.00am.

To say I was surprised to find Mike lying on my sofa, at a quarter past five in the morning, would be a massive understatement. He's lucky he didn't lose an eye.

Feeling horny, I had decided to reach into my bedside drawer for BOB, my 'Battery Operated Boyfriend'. Obviously, it had been a long time since I'd last been acquainted with BOB because the batteries were completely dead. Dressed in only my white, 'Hello Kitty' briefs and cami set, I'd ventured to the living room to scavenge a couple of batteries from one of the millions of remote controls I seem to have collected over the years. I was bent over, digging through the drawer of the coffee table, in the dark, when I heard the raspy, just-woke-up voice of a man.

"Well… Hello, Kitty!"

On instinct, I spun around and launched the item in my right hand at my supposed intruder –which luckily for Mike, turned out to be the Wii controller and not my vibrator. With my lame ball-throwing skills, who could have predicted that I'd manage to bean him on the head.

After hearing a surprised, but familiar sounding yelp, I immediately stowed BOB in the drawer of the coffee table before rushing to turn on the light.

He was sitting up, half-dazed and rubbing at a red welt on the bridge of his nose. "What did you do that for?" he whined.

"What are you doing here?" I yelled back.

He winced. "I was keeping an eye on you. Doctors' orders."

He went on to explain that last night at the hospital I'd been given intranasal _Midazolam_ in order to allow the doctor to stitch my head. As a result, I'd been totally stoned off my gourd. I couldn't remember a thing, but according to Mike, I was highly entertaining. There is apparently some video footage of stoned Bella in '_My Dazzle Land'_ on his cell phone – video footage in which I'd given Mike's penis a name and had played a game of Kill/ fuck/ marry. While I know the obvious answer for whom I'd kill, I still have no idea of the answers for the other two categories.

In order to get said answers for myself, and said video withheld from Alice, I allowed Mike to bribe me into looking after Tyler on a Saturday night, so he can take Lauren on a date. He's hoping if things go well between the two of them this afternoon, he'll need an opportunity to rekindle their relationship. Not that I would've balked at babysitting Tyler anyway, but I had to at least pretend to be a little pissed off at being bribed into doing it.

I turn and walk into the center only to be greeted by Alice's surprised face at the reception desk.

"I know what you're thinking, but just don't even go there. It's not what it looks like," I say.

"How was your date then?"

"It was brutal." I push on the low swing-door to join her behind the reception desk.

"So, care to explain why Mike just dropped you off at work at 7.30am?"

"It's complicated."

"I'm sure I'll keep up."

"Later, okay? I need to get changed."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Thanks for the continued support.**

**B.O.B xxx **

**(AKA Bower-Of-Bliss… not Battery-Operated-Boyfriend)**


	78. Chapter 78

I make my way through the door to the back office, and Alice follows me.

"Oh, come on, Belly! You gotta give me something here." I open my locker and pray to find what I'm looking for. Alice is still pleading at me for details. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease," she begs. So I take off my black, short-sleeve turtleneck sweater, and watch as her eyes go wide. "What in the fuck happened to you?" she screeches, reaching out to touch the bruises around my neck. "Did Mike do this? I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!"

I let out a heavy sigh and tell her about my run-in with Eric and his tranny friend. I then go on to explain how Mike had taken me to the hospital to get my head wound stitched, and how he stayed over to make sure I was okay. However, in my explanation, I conveniently leave out the parts about Edward_ 'magical-circling-fingers'_ Cullen.

"As fate would have it, we were both leaving the house, and it was then that my truck decided to die. Mike took a look under the hood, and he told me that the distributor cap and the rotor button are both badly worn. I'll need to get my truck towed to a garage to get it repaired."

"And that's why Mike dropped you off this morning?"

"Yep. So you can cancel the wedding plans already, okay. We're just friends. Mike has been in contact with Lauren, and I think he'd like to make a go of their relationship again; if that's what she wants."

Alice looks at me suspiciously as I blindly scrabble around in my locker and continue to explain what Mike told me about Lauren and her reasons for leaving him and Tyler. Unable to find what I'm searching for, I start pulling everything out.

"What are you looking for?" she asks.

"This morning I put on my swimsuit, and when I turned around to look in the mirror, I noticed the ass had been eaten out of it by the chlorine. I could see my butt crack. Ah-ha!" I say triumphantly as I hold up my other swimsuit; a black one-piece I had abandoned in favor of the blue one that's now resting in peace at the bottom of the wastebasket in my bedroom.

"That looks to be a bit old and brittle," she says taking it out of my hands. She tests the elastic by pulling on one of the leg holes. The elastic cracks, crumbles and falls to pieces. Now the leg hole is twice as wide as it should be.

"Great! Now I have another useless swimsuit."

"I don't suppose you have another one in there?" Ali asks.

"No. I don't. I was pinning my hopes on this one being okay." Taking the ruined swimsuit out of her hands, I toss it into the garbage.

"Oh! I know! I have something that might fit you."

I screw up my nose at her.

"Don't you give me that look, Bella Swan! It's brand new; never been worn. It's too large for me, but it should fit you perfectly."

I look at her dubiously. On more than one occasion, I've accused her of suffering from Reverse Body Dysmorphic Disorder by Proxy – meaning she always seems to think I'll look fantastic in whatever tight-fitting clothing she's encouraging me to buy.

On opening her locker, she reaches in and pulls out a blue cellophane bag that contains a swimsuit, and then she hands it to me. I stare at the writing on the packet and my eyes blink twice in incredulity.

"No way."

"You don't have much choice – it's all I have."

"A bikini? You seriously expect _me _to wear a bikini; a tiny bikini advertising beer, no less?"

"You can wear your swim shirt over the top of it," she offers.

"I suppose." Sighing in defeat, I take the proffered packet from her hands and stalk off to the changeroom.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Bella's new bikini (remove brackets) **

**(http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/nYfkPR**

****(http)(:/)(/bit.)**ly/mXJP6o**


	79. Chapter 79

Staring at my reflection in the changeroom mirror, I grimace at the image before me. While the bikini bottoms fit nicely, I'm almost spilling out of the top. The tag says it's a medium, but my D-cups barely feel contained. Personally, I imagine I'd feel more secure wearing a pair of Band-Aids. I start to move my arms around, doing the Y.M.C.A dance, as a test to see if the tatas can tumble out. Surprisingly, they manage to stay restrained within their tiny triangular coverings.

I hear her voice before I even see her manifestation.

**({'})** _Well, well, well… I never thought I'd see the day when you would wear a bikini. I'm still feeling toasty warm, so clearly, Hell hasn't frozen over yet._

Libby appears on my shoulder, and she's wearing a black fur coat. Obviously, she's still miffed about her recent Brazilian transformation. I continue to adjust myself in the mirror; wishing the fabric would somehow magically expand to cover more flesh. If only the _Engorgio_ spell from Harry Potter could exist in the real world.

**({'})** _What I'd like to know is – why on Earth anyone would name a beer after the base of the glans penis._

"What?"

**({'})** _You know – the Corona? It's the bulbous ridge that differentiates the head from the shaft of the cock._

"It's _not_ named after a part of the penis, you cock-obsessed moron. Corona is Mexican beer, and in Spanish, the word crown is Corona or Coronita. It's Crown beer. Do you see the crown in the logo?" I point to the vicinity of my right nipple. "Anyway – how do I look?"

**({'})** _Like you're about to pose for the cover of a 'Girls Gone Wild' porno magazine._

Libby starts humming a tune, and it's Duran Duran's _'Girls On Film'_.

I shake my head at her ridiculousness and walk out of the changeroom. As I walk past the pool, I see Jake and Alice roping off the lanes.

"Morning, Jake," I call out and wave to him.

"Hey, Bel-"

I turn and look at Jake, wondering what has stopped him mid-sentence. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging open.

"What?"

"Um… err… um. Wow! That's some bikini, Bella." His gaze is fixated on my chest. Stupid virgin boy.

I feel my face start to flush crimson-red, so I hasten my pace toward the back office door.

"Christ, you're acting like you've never seen a pair before. They're called boobs, Black. Close your mouth, before you swallow a bug," Alice teases.

Going back to my locker, I take out my swim shirt and pull it over my head, thankful that it covers my ass and boobs. Unfortunately, it doesn't hide the bruises on my neck, a fact that is made obvious as soon as Joe Brandon lays eyes on me. Before I can check the booking sheets, I'm forced to explain the previous evening's events to him before he starts getting paternally angry on Mike's ass with the baseball bat that's hidden under the front desk.

"I think you should wear one of these spandex swim shirts instead of the T-shirt. It will cover the bruises."

Joe passes me the short-sleeved, high-necked, spandex version of the instructor shirts. I hold it up against me, noting the bottom hem stops just below my navel, which will probably leave a gap of exposed skin on my belly.

"But it won't cover my butt," I whine as I pass it back to him.

"Either put on the spandex shirt or go home. I can't have you out there with a bunch of kids and their parents, looking like a victim of a domestic or one of those weirdos who strangles themselves for kicks."

Joe doesn't smile, so I know he's serious. After the Jessica Stanley debacle, he wants the swim instructors to maintain a public persona that includes professional attitudes and appearances. Alice even made me and Jake swear on our own lives that we wouldn't mention how she'd stripped down to her underwear in front of Jazz and Esme after I had caused her to trip over and fall into the pool. Begrudgingly, I take the tight, spandex shirt from his hand, and I start to head back toward my locker. Joe stops me by putting his arm around my shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

"Now, before you go storming off in a huff, I just need to let you know I've made some changes to the roster."


	80. Chapter 80

With trepidation, I look at the booking sheets with Joe as he explains the situation to me.

"I've decided to cancel the 11.30am daddy class," he states, "because Irina and Laurent have cancelled Bree's booking. They've moved interstate due to Irina's mom falling ill, so it only leaves Emily and Riley in that last class. From the 11.00am class, young Henry King has been advanced into the Watertots group, and the Cheney's little girl, Katie, will be absent for a few weeks. Angela gave birth to a boy on Friday morning; however, there were some complications."

"Are Angela and the baby okay?" I ask worriedly.

"The baby is healthy, but apparently it was a bit touch-and-go for Angela. I think Ben called it Eclampsia or something. Anyway, on Friday afternoon, I called the Hunters and the Cullens to see if they would mind joining in with the 11:00am group. Until there are more enrolments for the daddy classes, you'll only have to teach until 11:30am."

"I'm fine with that," I say, relieved I'll still get to see Edward today.

I turn and make my way out to the pool area. It seems Jake has been kind enough to take all of the equipment I'll need out of the storage room, and he's set it up just the way I like it on the side of the pool. It's the first time he's ever done that for me.

**({'}) **_Awww_**.** _I think someone might have a little crush on you now_.

Libby snickers.

Shut up! He does not.

I descend the ladder to get into the water and hiss due to the cold temperature.

"Jake!" I yell out, and my voice echoes around the space.

I hear his voice call out from the vicinity of the men's changeroom. "Yeah, Bells?"

"The temperature in the water is too low; can you please check the thermostat?"

"Will do," he replies, "I'll be out in a minute."

A few minutes later, Jake walks along the side of the pool, heading for the pump room. He looks over at me and almost appears to be disappointed. He's still staring at my chest though.

**({'})** _Told you so…_

I said shut the hell up, Libby.

Jake returns and informs me that the thermostat has been reset, but it probably won't feel any warmer for most of the morning classes.

At 7.50am, the doors of the center open to the public and the Sunday ritual begins once again.

Everyone complains when first getting into the pool due to the cool temperature, but as the lessons progress, everyone soon warms up as we are moving and singing and paddling with the babies.

Between 10:30am and 11:00am, the participants of the daddy class begin to arrive.

The first to appear are Demetri and Heidi with baby Chelsea. Poor kid – she still has little hair to speak of. Next to come along are Aro and Tanya with evil Miss Jane, and Marcus and Felix with Caius. James and Victoria arrive at 10:50am and they begin to introduce themselves to the others as they change Riley into his swim diaper.

I look anxiously at the clock as we sing the second to last song.

**Have you ever been fishing  
>On a bright and sunny day?<br>When all the little fishies  
>Swimmin' up and down the bay?<br>With your hands in your pockets,  
>And your pockets in your pants,<br>And all the little fishies,  
>Do the Hootchie Cootchie dance!<br>Tra la lala Tra la lala…**

We're wiggling our hips and doing a little dance in a circle when I see Esme with an unfamiliar blonde man, whom I presume to be her husband. He's wheeling Milly's pushchair. I begin to wonder if this is the man Jazz had referred to as 'Uncle Carlisle'.

Not far behind them, I see Mike and Tyler arrive with Mike's mom, Karen. Mike looks better for the extra hours of sleep. The lucky bastard. I've been stifling yawns all morning.

I look back to Esme, confused as to why the man next to her is taking off his shirt. Not that I'm actually complaining, because for an older guy, he's pretty damn hot, and in no way does he remotely resemble a gorilla like Aro.

**({'}) **_If that's Carlisle he's a_ _DILF!_ _Or is that a GILF?_

He does, however, have a tattoo on his inner bicep, and it looks exactly the same as Edward's. I also note there are quite a few scars scattered about his torso, including one that is about five inches in length along the midline of his abdomen. The scars don't look to be more than a few months old, and I'm reminded of what Alice told me a few weeks ago about an accident.

_So who was it that died?_ I wonder. I'm also left wondering where Edward is_._

As if reading my mind, Esme says, "They'll be here soon. They're having a little discussion in the parking lot."

The blonde man chuckles. "That's a nice way of putting it, dear," he says in a strong British accent. "I'll bet he's wishing he was allowed to stay in bed this morning. He's got a thumper of a headache after last night's bender. He didn't get in until after four in the morning, and Rosie was yelling at him to get up at eight."

From my peripheral vision, I see Edward and Rosalie standing on the other side of the glass doors, and they appear to be arguing.

**({'})** _Uh-oh – not good._

_Oh shit._


	81. Chapter 81

As they push their way through the doors, Rosalie scowls at him, but quickly, she transforms her expression to plaster a smile on her face as she heads toward the Waterbabes group. She looks fantastic; certainly much better than the last time I saw her in the aquatic center. Her skin is positively glowing, and I can see the small swell of a baby bump beneath the tight fabric of her pale-blue t-shirt. I guess she must be around thirteen weeks now, so she's into the second trimester of her pregnancy.

Edward doesn't look so good. In fact, he looks like hell. He seems to be wearing the same clothes as he was last night. The skin beneath his eyes appears dark, and his hair is more chaotic than I've ever seen it before. It doesn't look so much like sex-hair; instead, it looks as though he was dragged through a hedge backwards.

Leaving Edward behind in her wake, Rosalie strides confidently towards Esme, who is sitting with the pushchair next to her legs. Immediately, Rosalie takes Milly out of her seat and cuddles her in close to her body as she heads over to one of the change tables. Edward shuffles along sullenly and takes a seat on the metal bench next to Esme. He leans back on the wall behind him, folds his arms, and then promptly closes his eyes as if he's about to take a nap.

There are no sexy smiles. No lingering gazes. No playful winks. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge me. I feel as if I don't even exist in his world.

**({'})** _Ouch…_

As I try to sing along to _'Rock-a-bye Your Bear'_, my throat feels tight and begins to ache. A pain develops behind my breastbone. I know this feeling. It's my heart. My heart is breaking all over again.

Maybe the whole connection thing between us was just wishful thinking on my part; something I'd built up to be more than it actually was. However, his words and actions last night seemed to indicate there was something there – something real. Maybe he's acting this way because Rosalie is here? If he's married to her, he's not going to flirt openly with me. But then again, it's never stopped him before.

So that leaves the one thing I was most afraid of. I guess he _is_ angry with me. He probably thinks I deceived him. That I lied when I said I would meet with him, and then took off as soon as his back was turned. It looks like I've really blown it this time. I swallow hard and turn my attention back to the group in the pool. I decide Edward, or no Edward, I still have a job to do, so I set up the colorful rainbow arch made of pool noodles. We begin to sing the '_Sun Shower Song_' which is a song Alice and I made up ages ago to be sung to the tune of "I'm a little teapot".

**There's a pretty rainbow way up high,  
>Beautiful colors in the sky.<br>Here's the sun shower, but we won't frown,  
>Because a rainbow is a smile that's upside-down.<strong>

As the babies and their parents pass under the rainbow, I shower them with the small plastic watering can I'm holding at the top of the arch. My gaze momentarily flicks back to the Cullens. Rosalie has taken a seat on the bench with the rest of her family, sitting between the blonde man and Esme. With the four of them sitting together, it's plain to see Edward's looks came from his mom and not from the blonde man. Esme is talking into Rosalie's ear. Rosalie is looking directly at me, but her expression is indecipherable. Edward is still ignoring me.

Mentally, I begin the process of rebuilding the wall around my heart to protect myself.


	82. Chapter 82

After saying goodbye to the participants of the 10:30am class, the men and babies of the 11:00am daddy and baby group enter the pool. The whole center is a hive of activity as all the other classes have finished for the day. It's so loud I can barely hear myself think. Rosalie passes Milly to me as the blonde man descends the ladder. She gives me a small but awkward smile, and it's a smile I return in kind. The blonde man approaches me.

"Hi, I'm Carlisle Cullen, and I'm Milly's poppy. I'll be taking Edward's place today," he says as I pass Milly to him.

"Hi, I'm Bella. Welcome to the group." Dropping my voice slightly, I ask, "Um, is Edward okay?"

"Yeah – he'll live. Don't feel too sorry for him. I assure you it was self-inflicted," he says, raising his voice so as to be heard over the noise.

We look over at Edward and see he is watching our conversation, but as soon as we make eye contact, Edward rolls his eyes at Carlisle and then closes them once again. Deciding to get on with the lesson, I call everyone into a circle, and we begin singing the _'Little Green Frog Song.'_

-oo0oo-

It's halfway through the lesson and on several occasions, I've managed to catch Edward watching. I can't say if he's staring at me specifically; because of course, his father and daughter are both in the pool.

Mike has been teasing me on and off throughout the session during my one-to-one interactions with Tyler. Mike had been a perfect gentleman last night and hadn't taken advantage of the situation; however, this morning, he's quite happy to make fun of me at my expense. He's been making me blush, laugh, and cringe by quietly explaining some of my antics from last night.

Under the influence of the Midazolam, I apparently asked one of the doctors, whose surname happened to be Cooper, if he too had Sexual Tourette's just like the one on 'Nurse Jackie', and I had grabbed his hand and placed it on one of my boobs. Then later, when Mike had carried me to my room, I'd asked him to come to bed with me, but only if he would wear his tool belt and hard hat. He still refuses to tell me the name I christened his penis with, though. It's easy to see now how Mike and Alice have remained friends for so long. They are so alike. Evil.

-oo0oo-

I'm helping Carlisle to put the water-wings on Milly's arms so we can paddle her around in the water. At my height, I'm in a direct line of sight with Carlisle's collarbones. I can see a small, pink scar in the center of the lower portion of his neck.

"I see you've had a tracheostomy in the past," I begin, "how did that come about?"

"Car accident about five months ago. It was a freak accident. It was raining, and we were driving through the Olympic National Park on the 101 at night. We had just come around the corner when we hit a 400 pound black bear. Or more accurately, it hit us. The Pontiac in the opposite lane struck the bear first, and it then catapulted the poor beast into the air. It came smashing in through our windshield and crashed out the back window. I lost control of the car as it struck me on the way through. We hit a group of trees on the side of the road, and the car rolled and ended up on its side."

"Oh, my God. That's awful." Prodding for more information I ask, "How long were you in the hospital? Was anyone else hurt?"

"I was lucky to be out of hospital in just a month. Em wasn't quite as lucky. He-"

"Excuse me, Bella?" Aro interrupts in his heavy Italian accent, "Would you mind taking hold of Jane for me? I need to get out of the pool as I have to use the bathroom." He then drops his voice to a whisper. "The old prostata is giving me a bit of trouble."

**({'})** _Ewww. Too much information! We honestly didn't need to know that last part. God! Am I ever thankful we don't have a prostate._

"Uh – sure, Aro," I say as I gingerly take the demon child from his arms. The second Aro steps out of the pool, Jane explodes. Like the scene from the movie 'The Exorcist,' a torrent of the vilest, greenest vomit spews forth from her evil little mouth. It seems impossible that so much vomit could issue from such a small being.

**({'}) **_What in the fuck have they been feeding this child? Oh, that's so gross. *gag*_

I feel the bile rising into the back of my own throat, and I have to swallow it down in order to prevent myself from vomiting. I'm covered from neck to navel with what smells and appears to be a combination of sour milk and broccoli; it's dripping down my swim shirt and into the water. Jane is smiling innocently at me. I sigh in resignation. Now the pool will need to be evacuated.

_Shit._


	83. Chapter 83

"Okay, attention everyone! Due to health and safety regulations the water is now considered contaminated. Everyone is to vacate the pool immediately. Please head straight to the change rooms to wash with medicated soap from the dispensers. The pool will be closed for the rest of the day for decontamination procedures."

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry. I had no idea she would do this," Aro says apologetically as he takes his vomit-dripping child from my arms.

"Never mind. These things happen from time to time," I say resignedly. It's not his fault. It's no one's fault, really - not even Jane's. She's just a baby.

The men hand the babies over to family members who have come to the side of the pool to help with the evacuation. Marcus and James take their boys into the men's change room to shower, whereas Mike's mom, Karen, Heidi, Rosalie, and Tanya take the rest of the babies into the women's change room to help clean them up. The change rooms are equipped with medicated soap dispensers and large metal basins. They can safely wash their babies in there without having to get into the shower. Only Vicky, Felix, Esme, and Edward are left sitting on the metal bench.

"Jake!" I yell loudly as I begin to take out the pool toys and equipment from the water.

I put the contaminated items into a separate basket. They will need to be rinsed and soaked in disinfectant. The door of the office opens, and Jake steps out.

"Can you please get the fecal/ vomit contamination kit? We've had a vomiting incident."

Jake disappears back into the office and reappears about thirty seconds later with a skimming net and reagent testing kit. Once the solid matter has been skimmed out of the pool, the chlorine level and water temperature will be raised in order to eliminate any harmful bacteria. Then the pool will need to be disinfected, and the filters left to run for hours until the chlorine levels fall back to normal ranges.

With everything collected, I climb the ladder. The smell of the vomit stained swim shirt is overpowering. I reach back and try to undo the zipper of the swim shirt, but it's stuck.

"Can you give me a hand with this, Jake?" I ask. "I don't want to get vomit everywhere as I walk, and I don't want to get it in my hair while I take off my shirt."

Jake sets the net down on the side of the pool, and I turn my back to him. Edward is talking to his mom, but I can see him flick his gaze at me as Jake struggles with the zipper.

"I can't get the zipper to work. It's really stuck. Let me give you a hand to get the shirt over your head. I'll hold it out in front while you pull your head through the neck."

Jake pulls on a pair of latex gloves from the contamination kit. He then stands in front of me, and I pull my arms in through the sleeves of the shirt. Jake gathers the material at the front of the shirt and stretches it out to help make the opening of the neck wider. From the inside of the shirt, I lift and push the material up and over my head in such a way as to avoid the front of the shirt touching my face and hair.

"Thanks, Ja-" I start to say, but my words are abruptly cut off when I see Edward stand up.

His expression is thunderous. Taking quick, long strides, he walks into the men's change room. I look at his mom who is staring at me strangely. Suddenly, there is shouting.

"What the fuck did you do?" It's Edward's voice.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything. I don't even fucking know who you are, asshole." It's Mike's voice.

In response, Jake takes off at a run, heading for the changeroom.

I follow behind Jake, but stop just outside the door to listen. Esme soon joins me. There are more shouts from several of the men who sound as though they are breaking up a fight.

"Edward? What in the hell is going on?" Carlisle asks in a strained voice.

"Edward? So, you're Edward?" Mike asks, sounding incredulous.

"Tell me – do you get a kick out of hurting women, huh? Does it make you feel like a real man? Fucking coward," Edward says menacingly.

"I didn't do anything wrong, you stupid fucker," Mike replies.

There is more scuffling until Jake yells at the top of his lungs, "You – grab your shit and get out of here right now."

"What?" Edward says disbelievingly.

"You heard me. You have thirty seconds to get out, or I'm calling the cops."

"Hey – I remember you. You're that kid I threw out of the bar last night. Is this your revenge because I made you leave The Broho? You were both under age. If you'd been found on the premises by the authorities, my mum would have lost her liquor trading license."

"Well, as you said to me last night, rules are rules – and we have rules here too. Improper conduct causing undue disturbances on or about the pool area or any acts which would endanger any patrons are prohibited," Jake recites, as if reading from the center's rule book. "So leave and don't come back. You're banned from this center."

"You know what – fine! Whatever," Edward replies sarcastically.

"Can't we sort this out? There must be some mistake. What's this all about? Edward?" Carlisle's voice calls out just as I see Edward emerge from the changeroom.

Edward quickly glances over at me and Esme and then pushes his way forcefully through the glass doors.

"Mike didn't do anything wrong," I cry out, but he doesn't acknowledge me.

Carlisle starts to follow him but stops at the front door. He's only clad in a towel. He then turns and pushes his way back through the doors and heads in our direction. He looks at me and then does a double-take.

"Esme, do you have any idea of what's gotten into him? He just went right off for no reason."

Mike comes out of the changeroom and heads towards me. His lip is bleeding. "So, Bella, that was Edward – the guy you said you wanted to fuck and marry."

Esme and Carlisle both turn and stare at me.

I silently pray for the earth to swallow me whole.


	84. Chapter 84

Inexplicably, Esme and Carlisle completely ignore Mike's sudden attack of verbal diarrhea. Instead, Esme steps forward and takes hold of my elbow. She gently proceeds to lead me away from Mike.

Once we are at least twenty feet away, Esme speaks in a hushed voice. "Are you in any physical danger from that man? If you need help, all you need to do is ask."

"What? You mean danger from Mike?" I laugh nervously. "Of course not."

"There's no shame in reporting abuse. I'm sure he's a likeable guy at times, but some men can flip like a switch. One minute they want to give you the moon, and then in the following minute – if things don't go their way – they can turn on you like a vicious pit bull. Believe me, honey, I've lived it, and I barely made it out alive."

Esme moves her hand toward her forehead, and lifting up her fringe, she shows me a thin, white scar that is approximately three inches long. Dropping her hand, her fringe flops down to hide the scar once again. Esme looks at my neck appearing both sympathetic and concerned. Realization hits me – the bruises – it all makes sense. _Shit_.

"Esme, I think there's been a huge misunderstanding. Mike honestly didn't hurt me. Apart from some friendly ribbing and a very recent severe case of foot-in-mouth-disease, he's been a loyal friend."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. In fact, the whole debacle took place last night while I was at The Broho."

I go on to explain briefly to Esme about Eric and Sammy; our confrontation on the dance floor, and our eventual expulsion from the bar. I mention how I ended up in the hospital requiring medical attention for a bleeding head wound.

Esme suddenly appears too pale. "Carlisle!" I turn and look at Carlisle. He's deep in conversation with Mike, but he lifts his head to see what Esme wants. "Carlisle, come here, please."

Carlisle walks toward us, and as soon as he is within speaking distance, she relays our conversation. Thankfully, Mike's version of events correlated with mine.

"You mean – Bella was the other cross-dresser you were searching for?" Carlisle says incredulously.

"Pardon? What did you just call me?"

"Bella, on behalf of the staff at The Brotherhood Lounge, I sincerely apologize for how you were treated last night," Esme begins. "Just after you were ejected from the premises, one of the waitresses came to me. She was concerned a patron with a bleeding head injury had been forcibly removed by one of the security guards. We had hired additional staff from an agency for last night's event. After reprimanding the guards for allowing an injured patron to leave without medical attention, I spent half the night ringing the local hospitals to see if a cross-dresser named Billy had been brought into any of the Emergency Rooms. Of course, my search was fruitless."

I don't know if I should feel insulted or bemused. How was it possible that I had been mistaken for being a transvestite?

"And Mike, I'm so sorry we jumped to conclusions when we saw the bruises on Bella's neck. I will of course relay the truth of the situation to my son, Edward. You can expect an apology from him once we've explained everything. It's no excuse, but sadly, as a young boy, Edward witnessed his father's abuse against me. It had a profound effect on him, and I only have myself to blame for staying with Edward Senior for as long as I did." Esme starts to tear up, and Carlisle moves in to embrace her.

"Hey, no hard feelings. I just wish he'd asked questions first, instead of flying at me with his fists." Mike rubs his jaw a little to emphasize the point."

Suddenly, Esme's words ricochet around my mind. _Edward Senior?_

"So, Carlisle isn't Edward's father then?" I ask.

"I'm not his biological father, but I've been like a father to him since he was eleven; pretty much since the day Rosie and Edward met. However, he officially became my step-son about seven months ago," Carlisle explains.

"So, lemme get this straight – are you saying that Rosalie is _your_ daughter, and Edward and Rosalie are, in fact, step-brother and step-sister?" I ask, hoping I'm fully comprehending the situation correctly.

"That's right," Esme answers.

"And they're married..."

"No!" Esme and Carlisle reply in unison, seemingly shocked that I would suggest such a thing.

"Okay – so why does he have Carlisle's surname?"

"Edward always hated that he'd been named after his father. He was born Edward Masen the second, but as Carlisle said, for most of his life, he has been more of a father to him than his biological father ever was. When Carlisle and I got married, Edward decided to change his surname to Cullen, too."

"So Rosalie and Edward aren't married to each other," I ask again, just to be doubly certain.

"No," Carlisle and Esme say simultaneously, now appearing confused as to why I'm repeating the question.

"So who fathered Milly then?"

At that moment, Rosalie appears, and she's carrying Milly in her arms.

"Edward," Rosalie states matter-of-factly. "Now, would anyone care to fill me in regarding what's been going on out here while I was in the changing room cleaning Milly?"


	85. Chapter 85

I feel the beginnings of a headache. The two Motrin I took this morning before leaving the house have begun to wear off.

Esme and Carlisle turn to speak to Rosalie, recounting everything that's happened since last night. Not wanting to listen to a rehashed version of my fucked up evening, I decide I need to head to the showers, so I can wash off the smell of baby vomit. I catch up to Mike just before he heads back into the mens changeroom.

"I'm sorry about your lip." I grimace at the sight of his lower lip that looks as though it will swell and bruise.

"Don't worry about it. It'll heal."

"I just wanted to say thanks again for looking after me last night. I hope your meeting with Lauren goes well, and the two of you can be together again. I'd give you a hug for luck, but I don't smell the best right now."

"Thanks. I have a good feeling about it. I'm totally gonna need to hit you up for some babysitting." Mike gives my hand a squeeze and walks away.

I pick up my towel, the smelly swim shirt, and my squeeze water bottle on the way back to the office. After collecting my gym bag from my locker, I pass Tanya and Heidi as they exit the changeroom with their babies. They give me startled looks when they see the bruises, but I ignore them.

Turning on the hot water, I stand under the spray and begin to wash with the medicated soap. While standing under the sprayer, I use the soap to wash out the vomit from my swim shirt as I don't want it to stink up my gym bag on the way home.

**({'})** _Bella…_

"Not now, Libby. I'm not in the mood."

**({'}) **_You don't even know what I'm going to say._

"I don't care."

**({'}) **_But-_

"I said, I don't care."

**({'}) **_Fine! Go ahead and make assumptions. It's not like you haven't been doing it all along._

"I don't think I assumed incorrectly that Edward and Rosalie are together. They may not be married, but they live together and they have a baby for Christ sake. On top of that they are step-siblings. Freaks."

**({'}) **_How old is Milly?_

I try to recall the first time I saw the Cullens.

"Edward said three weeks ago that Milly was eight months old. So she's probably going to be nine months old in the next week or so."

**({'}) **_And how long does a pregnancy generally take?_

"Nine or so months."

**({'}) **_So that would mean Milly was conceived about eighteen months ago – correct?_

"I suppose."

**({'}) **_And how long ago did Carlisle say he and Esme got married?_

"He said Edward officially became his step-son seven months ago."

**({'}) **_Do the math, bitch._

"Okay, so they weren't step-siblings when they conceived Milly. They're still together though."

**({'})**_ Are you absolutely sure about that?_

"What do you mean? It's obvious, isn't it? They're even having another baby."

**({'}) **She's having someone's baby. However, it might not even be Edward's.

"And why would you think that?"

**({'}) **_Because while Edward isn't married to Rosalie, it seems Rosalie _**_is_**_ married to someone._

And suddenly the penny drops because I remember Rosalie wears a wedding ring.

_Oh!_


	86. Chapter 86

After getting dressed, I sling my gym bag over my shoulder and then exit the changeroom. Jake is over by the ladder near the Waterbabes section. He's taking the non-contaminated pieces of equipment from the side of the pool and placing them back into the storage room. I head over to speak with him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah, Bells."

"I'd like you to reverse the ban on Edward Cullen. I believe there were extenuating circumstances that led to his behavior, and I think he deserves a second chance – for Milly's sake," I clarify.

"Don't worry about it. It's already been sorted out. Mike, Rosalie, Esme, and Carlisle all approached me while you were still in the changeroom. They explained the situation to me. If Edward wants to come back to the center, he's welcome to return, but according to Rosalie, he can be a bit stubborn. He might not want to come back."

My heart sinks at the revelation. "Okay – thanks. I guess I'll see you next week then." I turn to make my way out of the center.

"Bells?"

I stop and look over my shoulder at Jake. "Yeah?"

"I think I heard that Rosalie wanted to speak with you."

"Oh. Okay."

I push through the glass doors and walk past Alice. She's sitting at the reception desk and filling out some paperwork.

"Rosalie Cullen is waiting for you outside. What's that all about?"

"I have absolutely no idea," I answer half-truthfully, and I continue to make my way to the front door.

I tentatively poke my head out of the doorway. If she's going to attack me, I want to be ready. On one side of the almost empty parking lot, parked in the shade of the building, is Rosalie Cullen. Rosalie is now wearing a black leather jacket over her pale-blue t-shirt. She's sitting sideways on the seat of a vintage motorcycle that looks similar to the ones Edward and Jazz rode last week. Whereas those other motorcycles had been painted candy-apple red and black, the bike Rosalie is perched on top of is painted in a gorgeous metallic blue and cream with whitewall tires. Sitting on the back of the bike is a matching helmet. Rosalie is casually resting her forearm on top of the helmet.

I briefly contemplate going out through the back door of the building in order to avoid her. I figure my last confrontation with a tall blonde didn't go over so well, and this one could potentially end up in the same manner.

"Bella?"

_Damn it! She's seen me._

Unfortunately, it seems my decision to retreat was a tad too slow. With some trepidation, I walk over to Rosalie. She stands and then moves to meet me halfway. Once we are standing face to face (well, my face to her shoulder) Rosalie speaks.

"I think I owe you an apology."

Of all the things I expected to come out of her mouth – that statement wasn't one of them.

I swallow hard before replying. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"I may have called you some names and said a few harsh things about you."

"Oh! What did you call me?" _Man-stealing_ _whore? Home-wrecker? Shameless harlot?_

"I told Edward that you were nothing but a flake. I also called you, flighty."

**({'}) **_Really? Is that the best you've got?_

"I've been called worse names, I suppose." _Crazy bitch. Pain in the ass. Pyromaniac._

"Well that's not _exactly_ the way I put it. What I actually said was, 'Edward, that girl Bella, is nothing but a flake, and if she is too bloody flighty to know a good thing when she sees it, then she's not worth your fucking time and effort.'"

"I see. Well, thanks for the apology – sort of. I'm gonna go home now, and then I'm going to eat myself into an alcoholic/ diabetic coma. With any luck, when I come to, I'll have forgotten the last three days ever happened. Bye." I attempt to walk past her.

"Listen – I was under the belief you were just going to hurt him. I'm extremely protective of Edward; just as he's protective of me and Milly. You've rebuffed him a couple of times now, and each time you rejected him, he's come away from the situation feeling confused and hurt. In one breath, it seems as if you're interested in Edward, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from him, but when he tries to engage you more, you run away. Also, up until twenty minutes ago, I thought you were dating Mike, and that you were just leading Edward on."

"Leading him on?" I almost snort at the absurdity. "I've been fighting a constant inner-battle to stay away from him; I've been trying to forget about him. Up until about twenty minutes ago, I thought Edward was a married man. I thought he was married to _you_!"

"Why would you think that?" she asks incredulously.

"Are you for real?" I point at my fingers as I rattle off the list of reasons why I assumed they were married. "Well there is the fact you both have the same surname. You share the same address. You wear a wedding ring. You have a child whose looks are a combination of the two of you. You have confirmed Milly _is,_ in fact, yours and Edward's, so obviously there is some past or present romantic link between the two of you. Oh – and then there's the fact you are currently pregnant."

Rosalie is softly chuckling. I have no idea what she finds so funny.

"What! What is so funny?" I ask as my frustration begins to peak.

"You think Edward and I have been – _romantic_?" She smirks and then bursts into laughter.

"Well, duh! You had a baby together. It usually involves some kind of physical intimacy, don't ya think?"

"Yes, of course," Rosalie replies regaining her composure, "usually – except in the case of intracervical insemination."

**({'})** _Huh?_


	87. Chapter 87

My head really hurts now, and I don't know how much more of this fuckery I can take. My mind can't seem to process what Rosalie is telling me. I'm sure there is a plausible explanation as to why Edward would be donating his little swimmers to his step-sister, but the whole situation is weirding me out. I mean – even if Edward and Rosalie aren't romantically linked, and they aren't conceiving the old-fashioned way; exactly how many kids are they planning on having together?

Just then I see a familiar black Volvo drive into the parking lot. Edward is behind the wheel.

**({'})** _Speak of the Devil… and he appears._

"Excuse me," Rosalie says, and she walks over to the car. As soon as Edward parks and steps out of the vehicle, Rosalie holds her hand out palm facing up. "Give me my keys back," she demands.

"No way! I told you this morning you shouldn't be riding any of the bikes. You've only just been cleared from bed rest. Stop being so fucking stubborn and do as you're told for once in your life. Now get in the damn car. You're meant to be heading off to Puyallup with Mum, Carlisle, and Milly, and now you're all running late."

"Well, if a certain someone hadn't taken off with my keys, I'd be on my way by now."

"I needed to walk to The Broho to get the car."

"I can see that now. Keys, please."

He hands over a set of keys, but it's obvious they aren't the ones she wants.

Rosalie scowls at him, but after looking at her watch, she relents and gets into the Volvo.

"You break my bike, and I'll break your face," Rosalie warns, and then she starts the car.

They seem to be talking, but I can't hear anything over the noise of the motor; however, I catch Rosalie's parting words as it's easily lip read. _Good luck. _Rosalie looks over at me, gives me a small wave goodbye and then turns the car around to exit the parking lot.

Bouncing the keys nervously in his hand, Edward heads over to the bike. He puts the key into the ignition and pauses. At this moment in time, I seriously wish I had my truck. If I had my truck here, I could escape, and I'd be home within five minutes; however, walking home will take me nearly forty minutes. And even though it's a warm day, and the sun is out, I feel as though I have an oppressive, black rain cloud hanging directly above me.

"We need to talk," he says, not meeting my eyes.

"Okay, I'm listening."

He looks up and then seems to scan his gaze around the parking lot.

"Where's your truck?"

"It's dead in my driveway. Mike drove me in this morning, and I was planning to walk home."

"I don't suppose Mike is still around. I've been told I owe him an apology."

"No, he's gone now. He's meeting his ex-fiancée, Lauren, for lunch. They have some talking to do, too."

Edward lets out a heavy sigh.

"I don't want to have this conversation in the middle of a parking lot. I need to go somewhere with some fresh air. Will you come with me?"

"Where will you be taking me?"

"I was thinking about heading over to the marina. Being near the water always calms me."

I look at the motorbike nervously. "Do you expect me to get on that bike with you?"

"Do you have something against motor bikes… or is it just me that you don't want to be near?"

"I notice you only have one helmet..." My dad is a cop, so I've had Washington state road rules drilled into me since the day I first got behind the wheel of a car. "You can't have both of us on the bike, unless we are wearing helmets."

At first, he seems disappointed, but then he appears decidedly angry.

"Look – if you don't want to talk to me, fine. Just don't lie to me or make lame excuses to run away. If you're not interested in getting to know me, say so. Just say the word and I'll leave you alone." Edward turns around and seats himself on the bike. He picks up the helmet, puts it on, and then proceeds to secure the chin strap.

"Wait!"

He looks up and meets my gaze. There is sadness within Edward's eyes, and in that moment, I feel something shift inside my heart.

"I think Jake might have a helmet inside. Can you just wait here for a moment?"

He nods once, and I turn and head into the center, praying that Jake still keeps a spare helmet in his locker. As soon as I enter the reception area, I see Jake coming out of the back office holding a black helmet in his hand.

"Here. Take it. You can give it back to me next Sunday," he says handing the helmet over to me.

"So you two have been listening the whole time?" I ask, looking at both Alice and Jake.

They nod enthusiastically.

"I don't know what's going on between you two, but I'm dying to find out. Just hear the guy out and call me later." Alice then adds, "Also, ask him for his cousin's number. I want to find out when he's going to be in town again." She grins and then laughs.

"Sure, Alice." I smile just thinking about the two of them getting together. "And thanks for the helmet, Jake."

"Bye, Bells."

"Bye."

When I step outside, holding the helmet in my hands, I see Edward's eyes brighten, and he gives me a gentle smile. With some help, I put the helmet on and securely fasten the chin strap. I readjust my gym bag, so both of my arms are through the handles, and then I climb onto the back of the bike behind Edward. I place both of my hands on his hips at the level of the waistband of his jeans. He starts up the bike, and then turns to look over his shoulder to speak with me.

"You're gonna need to get in a lot closer to me, or you'll fall off." I wriggle my bottom forward until my pelvis is flush with his butt. "Come on, closer," he urges. Taking my hands from off his hips, he wraps them around his waist.

I can feel the warmth of his back along the full length of my chest and abdomen. The side of my face is pressed up between his shoulder blades, and I can smell the scent of him. Even though he's still wearing last night's clothes, I can still detect the faint odor of his cologne. It almost makes me want to lift up the back of his shirt, so I can dive my head underneath it.

"Much better," he says. "Now hold on."

Edward straightens the bike and flicks up the kick-stand with his heel. I adjust my hold around his body, and then once he's satisfied I'm holding on tightly, we take off.


	88. Chapter 88

Sadly, my time on the bike with Edward was all too brief. For some reason, I thought we'd head off to the Boston Harbor Marina – the quaint little marina near his Mom's home that is almost twenty minutes away. It's the marina that Alice and I regularly go to when we want to rent kayaks.

Instead, after a short four-minute ride, we headed along Marine Drive, and we've just parked in the lot of the much bigger Swantown Marina which is located at East Bay. I note we are parked next to one of the bikes he rode last week. Edward helps me to remove Jake's helmet, and then we leave the bike in the lot. Taking my bag off my back, I sling it over my right shoulder.

**({'})** _Bella, if this whole thing with Edward doesn't work out, I've decided we won't need a man after all. You need to start taking motorcycle riding lessons instead, and as soon as possible! That bike is almost as enjoyable as BOB!_

Edward points to the left, indicating the direction of where he wants us to go. Walking side by side, it feels somewhat awkward. Our hands are swinging loosely by our thighs, almost brushing against each other. A part of me feels as though I want to reach over and grab a hold of his hand in mine, but I still have a lot of reservations about him. I've decided that until I can get the full picture regarding his relationship with Rosalie, I'll be keeping my distance, emotionally and physically.

We walk along until we reach A-Dock which is the dock nearest to the breakwater, and he points to a row containing five slips. There are two multi-hulled boats moored in the row, and we head toward a beautiful white trimaran called, 'My Solitude'.

"Is this your boat?" I ask.

"Yep. This is a Corsair 37-foot Bluewater Cruiser. This is where I go to get away from it all – my home away from my other home. It's just a shame I can't live aboard for more than three nights in a row, or more than fourteen days a month; rules of the marina and all, unfortunately."

"So you don't live with your mom, Rosalie, and Milly all the time?"

"God no!" he says, looking at me as if I've suddenly sprouted an extra head. "As I said, I can't stay here overnight on a full-time basis, so I have to stay at Mum and Carlisle's every second or third night."

"I see."

"Staying with the family isn't all that bad, though, 'cause it means I can get some laundry done, collect my mail, and have a proper home-cooked meal a couple of times a week. Cooking-for-one every night is a bit depressing, isn't it?" He gives me a sheepish smile, and I can only nod in agreement. "Okay, just wait here for a second. I need to fold the akas down, and then we can lay out on the tramp."

Edward steps onto the boat, and starts pointing out its various parts to me, telling me what they're called and what their functions are. I watch as he flips some levers and switches that lower the two canoe-like hulls into the water that are on either side of the main hull, which he informs me is called the vaka. Once everything has been locked down, he walks across the trampoline closest to the dock and stands on one of the small outer hulls, known as the amas. He extends his hand, and I hold onto it until I'm safely standing on the trampoline-like mat that is stretched between the amas and the vaka.

"Have a seat," he instructs as he slips my bag from off my shoulder. He then turns and heads over to the cockpit. Taking his keys out, he unlocks the door of the main cabin and enters.

I sit down on the springy, black mat and stare at the water below, watching the surface as it glimmers in the sunlight. Just beneath the surface, I spot a small school of tiny fish flitting around in chaotic patterns. Taking in a deep breath, I enjoy the scent of the salt-filled air. Edward was right about the calming atmosphere of this place. Being here makes me feel as though I could stretch out and take a nap, absorbing the sun's warmth like a lazy cat sleeping on a window sill. Miraculously, the pain in my head seems to be dissipating, and I'm feeling soporific.

A few minutes later, Edward reappears, and he's changed out of last night's clothes into a white v-neck T-shirt, a pair of black board shorts and a black baseball cap. He's barefooted, and beneath one of his arms, he's carrying a pillow, a cushion, and a couple of plastic bottles. In his other hand, he's holding a baseball cap and something else I can't quite make out.

He steps onto the trampoline. Keeping the cushion for himself, he passes me the pillow, a bottle of water, a hat, and a tube of sun-protection cream.

"Better put on some of that sun cream and the hat, or you'll quickly burn out here, not just from the overhead sun, but also from the rays reflected off the water," he explains. He sits a few feet away from me and proceeds to take a long drink from his bottle of water. Adjusting his hat, he then lays his head down on the cushion.

I ignore the pillow and continue to sit cross-legged. However, I do as he advises, and I put on the hat and begin to apply some sun cream to my arms, face and neck.

"So…" he begins, "what happened to you last night, Cinderbella. I looked for you everywhere, and you were gone." He reaches into his pocket and then tosses my hair barrette to me. It's my favorite one with the three red gerbera daisies on it. I thought I lost it at the hospital. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd just imagined you there last night, but during the clean-up, my mum found that hair clip on the floor near the front entrance. So, why did you run away from me again?"

And for the third time today, I recount the previous evening's fuckery.


	89. Chapter 89

After listening to my explanation of the events that occurred after we parted ways on the dance floor, Edward sits up and asks to see the stitches on the back of my head. Obligingly, I take off my borrowed baseball cap and tilt my head forward. He gently runs his fingers through my hair, carefully moving the strands to get a proper look at the wound. The sensation of his fingers softly caressing my scalp makes me feel all tingly inside. It begins to weaken my resolve to stay away from him, so I quickly sit up and place the cap on my head once again.

He sighs. "Bloody hell. It looks like I truly owe Mike an apology. I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning. I just saw the bruises and totally flipped out. I'm really sorry I accused you of blowing me off last night, too. I had no idea it was you who got hurt. Mum said there was an incident, but the incompetent rent-a-cops she hired said it had been an altercation between two transvestites."

"Yeah, your mom mentioned to me this morning there had been a mix up. I'm still kind of offended at being mistaken for a tranny, though."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Yes, it's an absolute travesty. They must have been blind as well as stupid. You're so beautiful."

The compliment makes me blush like a school-girl with a crush, and I hate that I react to him in such a way. I need to get to the truth first.

"Your mom told me this morning that Carlisle isn't your biological father, and it seems Rosalie is your step-sister and not your wife as I had presumed."

Edward makes a face as though he's disgusted at the thought of Rosalie and him being married. "Me and Rosie together? Not in a million years – not even if you paid me. I love Rosie, but yeah, not in _that_ way."

"But Rosalie said Milly is your child."

"Technically speaking. Did Rosie tell you how that situation came about?"

"She said she was inseminated."

"Did she say anything else?"

"She didn't exactly get the chance. You drove into the parking lot, and then she left."

Edward scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. "Jesus. What must you be thinking? You must think we're completely fucked up." He emits a small, bitter laugh before sighing heavily. "Jazz warned me when mum and Carlisle got married – that without all the information – we'd end up looking like an inbred version of the Brady Bunch."

I smirk at his cousin's summation of the situation because he hit the nail on the head. "Yeah, that's kind of the impression I was getting." I want to hear more of what he has to say, but the sound of the water lapping at the side of the boat has stirred up my bladder. "Um… do you have a bathroom on this boat?" I ask.

"Yeah, just go in through the cabin and walk past the saloon table. On the left, there's a door. That's the head."

"Head?"

"It's boat-speak for the bathroom," he clarifies.

I stand and then climb onto the deck. I find I have to duck my head down to enter the cabin below. Apart from one or two dishes in the small, metal sink, the interior of the boat is immaculate. The majority of the cabin is white. Its starkness is broken up by the pale-wood floors, worktops and dining table, and the deep-red upholstery of the curved seating in the dining area and a large bench seat.

I find the sliding door to '_the head,'_ and on entering, I'm relieved to see there's a rather civilized flushing potty, a hand sink with an extendible shower attachment and a floor drain. As I sit and do my business, I look around the small enclosure.

**({'})** _There's absolutely no room for shower sex. This space is tiny. How on earth does Edward even manage to shower in here?_

Now I'm envisioning him standing in here – gloriously naked and wet.

"Not helping, Libby."

On exiting the head, I decide to be nosy. To my left, there is a doorway leading to a large V-shaped berth at the front section of the boat, and though there is a deep-red upholstered mattress that could comfortably sleep two adults, I note the space is currently being used as a storage area for Edward's clothes. They are neatly folded and have been organized into rectangular plastic tubs.

**({'}) **_Oh, Bella! Look! There's a tub full of Edward's underwear!_

I do a double take, and then I roll my eyes because she made me look. Now, thanks to Libby, I feel like a total creeper.

As I head the other way, towards the exit, I note there's another room in the rear of the boat that is visible through the stairs. The stairs I realize are movable. Squatting down to look through the stairway, I see it's another sleeping berth. This square berth is larger than the other one, and it has a rumpled, deep-red quilt that almost matches the décor of the rest of the boat. I note there are no pillows in there and realize Edward must have given me his own pillow to use while lying on the trampoline.

As soon as my head emerges from the cabin, I look over at Edward. He is stretched out on his back with one of his arms draped across his eyes. His bare feet are crossed at the ankles, and he appears to be very relaxed.

The second I step onto the trampoline, he moves his arm to look up at me, and he gives me a warm smile. "Feel better?"

"Much."

"Okay then, get comfortable. This may take a while to explain," he warns. He rolls to his side and rests his head on the cushion again.

I decide to take off my shoes, and then I lie down on my side and face him. There is a three-foot gap between us. As soon as I adjust the pillow under the side of my head, I quickly realize his scent is all over it. I have to suppress the urge to roll myself face down because I want to huff in the scent like an addict.

_Why does he have to smell so good?_

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"I'm ready."

_Or am I?_


	90. Chapter 90

"I think in order to make myself understood, I'm going to have to go back to the very beginning. I was born Edward Anthony Masen the second, and I was named after my father. He was a well-known, criminal defense lawyer in the U.K., and he was a man I learned to despise. Every single day, I just thank God that he's dead and permanently out of our lives," he says, the venom lacing his words.

My eyebrows lift in shock at the topic of conversation.

Edward continues. "He had a heart attack two years ago. Anyway, when I was seven, I nearly lost my mum. My dad was a violent alcoholic, and in a drunken rage, he hit her so hard that she fell unconscious to the floor. I witnessed the whole thing and had to flee to a neighbor's house to get help. Mum was in a coma for nearly a week as there was some bleeding between the brain and skull. She had several facial fractures, too.

"While mum was in the hospital, I stayed with one of her friends. Her name was Luciana, although she preferred to be called Lucy, and she had known my mum since their first day of secondary school. During my stay, I became best friends with Paul, her youngest son. He was the same age as me, and we did everything together as we liked the same things. Even in our looks we appeared quite similar, and there were some people who actually thought we were brothers. Paul never realized it at the time, but he was the reason I coped as well as I did during the years that followed after my mum left my father.

"Paul was what some would call an _old soul._ He was quite serious and extremely smart for his age, and he seemed to have this knack for knowing the right thing to say or do in any given situation.

"When we were nearly twelve, the Cullens moved to Andover. Carlisle was in the Army, and he had just moved his family to the area to take up his first non-combat position as a trainer at the nearby Army Air Corps Base. There was Carlisle and Rosie, of course, and Rosie's mum, Lily.

"My mum and Lucy took Lily under their wing, and they became devoted friends. Paul and I thought Carlisle was the coolest guy ever. He'd regularly take us to the football with him, or give us a personal tour around the air base and the Museum of Army Flying. When we turned twelve, he encouraged us to join up with the local Army Cadet Force. Growing up, Carlisle became like a father to me, always giving me advice when I needed a man's perspective.

"Rosie was nearly two years older than me and Paul, and she was a typical Army brat. She was smart and outgoing to the point of being precocious. It was her behavior that got her into trouble with some of the kids at school. Rosie had traveled around the world and had seen things in third-world countries that most of the kids in our area couldn't even fathom. When she spoke about her experiences to the other kids, they thought she was showing off.

"For Paul, it was love at first sight. Unfortunately, for Paul, Rosie didn't feel the same way. To Rosie, we were just the kids that she occasionally babysat to earn pocket money while our mums went out on the town together.

"About a year or so after we first met the Cullens, Lucy took the three of us kids to the pool for a swim. One of the local girls took an instant disliking to Rosie. Apparently, the boy she was interested in couldn't take his eyes off of her, so at one point when Rosie was about to walk onto the low diving board, the jealous girl pushed her from behind. When Rosie fell, she hit her head on the diving board, and it knocked her out. The lifeguard on duty was too busy to notice the incident as he was chatting up a girl, so Rosie was lying in the water, face down, beneath the diving board, and she was unconscious.

"It was Paul who found her, and when we pulled her from the water, her skin was blue, and she wasn't breathing. While I ran for help, Paul turned her onto her side to drain some of the water from her lungs, and he started CPR. He saved her life that day."

"So is that when Rosalie developed her fear of swimming pools?" I ask.

"Yep. She's tried hypnotism, aversion therapy, the lot. You name it, and she's tried it. She just can't seem to get over her fear of drowning – which is pretty understandable, I guess. Anyway, as I said before, Paul was quite an old soul and a deep thinker. After saving Rosie's life, he got it into his head that he needed to protect her and make sure she grew up to become an upstanding person and have a good life. If you ask me, I think he'd been watching a little too much '_Kung Fu_' on the TV." Edward chuckles softly as though he's remembering something about the past.

"Paul believed that if Rosie was actually _destined_ to die in the pool that day, then ultimately, he'd be responsible for whatever happened throughout the rest of her life. Like if Rosie went on to have a miserable life, it would be his fault because she had lived. Alternatively, if she became a mass murderer or something, then the blood would be on his hands too.

"He made it his sole mission in life to win Rosie over, and when he was fifteen he finally succeeded. With all the training he'd been doing in Army Cadets, his body filled out, much to Rosie's liking, but when Rosie's mum died of cancer, he was a true tower of strength for her.

"A few years later, Paul eventually plucked up the courage to ask Rosie to marry him, and she said 'yes' immediately. However, they knew they might have issues with conceiving a child. When we were seventeen, Paul and I were away on a cadet's camp when a few of the guys came down with the mumps. In his case, there were complications, and you know what that can do to a guy…"

"I gather Paul ended up with Orchitis," I say, "and it left him sterile."

He nods. "They said his fertility might return, but when Paul was 23, just before he and Rosie got married, he was tested and told he'd never father children."

"How did Rosalie take the news?"

"She was disappointed, but she loved Paul and still wanted to marry him. It was Paul, who was devastated. He grew up with a big family, and he'd always wanted kids. As time went on, and a lot of Rosie's friends started having babies, they looked at adopting, but because Paul was in the SAS they were denied as they considered he would be away from home for extended periods of time, and his job was 'high risk'."

"That's so sad. I guess insemination was their next avenue?"

"Yeah, they looked into it, but they both felt put off by the anonymity. So in the end they decided to forget all about it, and they threw themselves into their professions. However, Paul couldn't help but think it was his fault that he couldn't give Rosie a kid, and he started to get quite depressed. He broke down in front of me one day and told me that he had even asked his brother if he would donate, but Paul's sister-in-law put her foot down and said, 'No'. Then he offered Rosie a divorce. He just wanted her to be happy.

"And ultimately, I wanted my two best friends to be happy too, so I volunteered to donate. It seemed such an easy thing to do for two people I truly cared about. I had absolutely no intentions of becoming a father. As far as I was concerned, I was married to the Army. Like Paul, I had been in the SAS, but my true passion was flying helicopters, so after a while I transferred over to 8 Flight Army Air Corps. I was having the time of my life and doing what I loved. I had no time for serious relationships or kids. They just didn't factor in my plans for the future – at all."

"So then what happened?"

"On a day off, I went for a prearranged appointment at a fertility clinic, had a bunch of tests done and donated a sample. I drove home and didn't even think twice about it. A while later, Rosie had her appointment and two weeks after that she was pregnant." Edward smiles. "You should have seen them both when they found out Rosie was expecting. They were over the moon, and I was genuinely happy for them. I knew they'd make terrific parents. Paul would have been a brilliant dad."

"Would have? That sounds like past tense."

In that moment, a deep expression of sorrow passes over Edward's face, and he swallows hard. I can see he's fighting to hold back his emotions.

"Um… When Rosie was four months pregnant, Paul was killed during an army training exercise."

"Oh. I'm so sorry to hear that. So you decided to stick around to help Rosalie with the baby?"

"Nope. She said she didn't need my help, and to be honest, I was perfectly okay with that. I was just happy to be an unofficial Uncle Edward to the baby if that's what Rosie needed me to be. Not long after Milly was born, life got slightly complicated because Mum and Carlisle married, which then made Rosie my step-sister."

"Esme said you changed your surname."

"Yep. It was a good excuse to be rid of the name Masen."

**({'})**_ Hang on... something does not compute._

"Okay, I guess I can understand you wanted to help your best friend when he was alive, but why is Rosalie pregnant with another of your babies if Paul is dead?"

"She's not carrying my baby!" he says sounding alarmed. "Rosie remarried three months ago. She's carrying her new husband's baby."

"Then what was all of that business you said about trying again. You know – when she was bleeding – when you had to carry her out to the car."

Edward smacks his palm against his forehead and drags his hand down the length of his face.

"If I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me. It's really stupid."

"Try me!" I reply, my tone sounding as frustrated as I feel.

Edward stands and grabs his water bottle and cushion. He then motions for me to sit up and proceeds to pick up the pillow, the sun cream, and my bottle of water. Grabbing the brim of the baseball cap, he lifts it off my head.

"Wha- what's going on?" I ask.

"Put on your shoes, and get ready to go. There's something I need to show you."

Feeling confused, I put my shoes on and watch as he walks onto the main deck and then disappears into the cabin.

"Where are we going?" I call out.

"You'll see," he says enigmatically from below deck. He reappears two minutes later still wearing his white T-shirt, but instead of the board shorts, he's now wearing a pair of faded blue denim jeans and his motorcycle boots.

He locks the cabin door, picks up my bag, and then helps me across the ama to get back onto the dock.

In the parking lot, Edward once again helps me to put on Jake's helmet, and he positions my bag over my shoulders. I hop on the back of the bike, and we head out of the marina.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Here is a link to a youtube vid showing the boat inside and outside. Remember to remove the brackets.  
><strong>

****(http)(:/)(/bit.)**ly/vr58lR**


	91. Chapter 91

After a thirty-minute ride along the I-5, we take the right turn off, just after Joint Base Lewis-McChord. We then ride for another ten minutes into Puyallup, until we stop in front of a large building that is somewhat familiar to me. It's The Good Samaritan Regional Rehabilitation Center.

It's been a while since I've been here. Four years to be exact. Looking around as I dismount the bike, I note there have been a few changes here and there, but it's pretty much how I remember it.

"Why are we here? Did you know that I used to work here?"

"No, I didn't know," he replies as he begins to walk in the direction of the main entrance, "but if you used to work here, then you'll know this place has one of the best level 1 trauma rehabilitation programs in the state."

"So who's here then?"

"Emmett. He's the third owner of Cullen-McCarty Helicopter Charters, along with Carlisle and me, and he's Rosie's new husband. He's been stuck in the hospital, and now the rehab center, since the day of the crash five months ago."

"You mean _he_ was in the car accident with Carlisle; the one where he hit the bear."

"Yeah, that's the one. As far as injuries go, Carlisle got off relatively lightly compared to Emmett."

We head along a corridor and pass by a nurse's station. One of the nurses steps out from behind the desk, and she calls to Edward in a seductive voice.

"Hey, soldier. I haven't seen you around for quite a few weeks. Where have you been? The other nurses say you've been in, but I always seem to miss you."

Edward quickly puts his arm around my waist, draws me near to him and turns to face the nurse. The nurse bats her eyelashes at him ridiculously.

"Uh… Gianna… Hi. I've been _extremely_ busy. You know, but… yeah… sorry, can't stop. Gotta go and see Emmett. Bye now."

With his arm still firmly around my waist, Edward spins me around, and we walk briskly along the corridor until we turn the corner, at which point, he drops his arm. I stop and turn to look at him, cocking an eyebrow in question.

"Hey, soldier? So, I guess this makes us even now. Is she an ex-girlfriend of yours?"

Edward shoves his hands into his hair, and then clenching his fists, he closes his eyes and pulls at the strands with a look of pure frustration on his face. "No, she's not. It was one date, and I swear it was under duress." He opens his eyes and blows out a heavy sigh.

"So, how does a man end up going on a date with a pretty nurse _under duress_?"

"When the man isn't remotely interested in the nurse, and she's blackmailed him into it. And it's all because the man did a stupid favor for his step-sister and new best friend/ business partner."

The door next to us opens, and Rosalie is standing there and grinning.

"Oh, Eddie, are you still whining about that forced date with nurse Gianna. That was eleven weeks ago – get over it already." Rosalie rolls her eyes at him. "Hey, Bella. It's nice to see you again. You haven't run off screaming in the opposite direction, so I guess that means he hasn't told you the full story yet, or else you're a better person than the last two women Edward tried to date. Come on in and meet my husband."

Edward growls at Rosalie. Not so surprisingly, my headache has returned.


	92. Chapter 92

On walking into the room, I see a man who appears to be in his mid to late thirties, sitting upright, propped against the headboard of a hospital bed. He has dark-brown, closely cropped hair and a set of cheek dimples you can easily lose a fist in. A large, healed, semi-circular scar is visible on the right side of his scalp. He's wearing a black T-shirt, navy-blue sweat pants, and black slippers.

"Hey, Captain! I wasn't expecting to see you," he says exuberantly. "You were only just here yesterday afternoon and I warned you that _you-know-who_ is working today?" He holds his arms out in front of him, and Edward moves forward to give him a man-hug.

From his accent, I assume the man, Emmett, was probably born somewhere in one of the southern regions; in Texas perhaps or maybe Tennessee.

Turning to take a seat in the chair next to the bed, Edward indicates I should sit in the chair next to him as he speaks to Emmett.

"Yeah, Sarge, I wasn't planning on coming today, but I wanted Bella to meet you, and we just ran into _she-who-shall-not-be-named, _unfortunately."

Rosalie encourages Emmett to scoot over on the bed so she can sit next to him, and Emmett puts his arm around her shoulder to draw her in close.

"Nurse Zafrina has been sneaky, and she's given me a copy of the roster for the next month, so if you want to know in advance when to avoid her, it's there in the top drawer."

Edward laughs. "Thanks, but with any luck, you won't be in here for that much longer."

Emmett turns his attention to me. "So, this is the beautiful Bella that's caught Eddie's eye. He's told me quite a bit about you." Emmett smiles mischievously and waggles his eyebrows.

"Em…" Edward growls in a warning tone.

Ignoring Edward, Emmett holds out his hand towards me in greeting, and I shake it. "I'm just kidding. Hi, I'm Emmett McCarty, and it's nice to meet you. Finally, I can put a face to the name."

I try to control the blush that is threatening to turn me into a tomato. I have to wonder what Edward has been saying about me to this man. "Hi, I'm Bella Swan…, but I guess you knew that."

"So, did you tell Bella about Milly and Paul?" Rosalie asks.

Edward sighs. "Yes; I did – no thanks to you for dropping me right in it – and I also told her about our parents, both past and present."

"And she stuck around." Rosalie turns her gaze on me. "That's good to hear. I like you, Bella. Well, I like you better now I know you aren't dating someone else," she clarifies, "and I like that you stood up to me and didn't cry, even after I insulted you."

**({'})** _Ugh. This bitch is giving me whiplash._

"Rosie, honey, I love you, but you need to butt out of Edward's love life. I know he's younger than you, but he's a grown-up man and can take care of himself," Emmett says gently.

**({'}) **_Go, Team Emmett!_

Rosalie huffs. "If not for me looking out for him, that gold-digger Katrina would've hooked her claws into him, and he'd be paying alimony and child-support for a kid he didn't want. You weren't there, Emmett; I overheard her plans. And as for that other woman, Carmen, she said hurtful things about Esme behind her back. I won't hear of anyone saying a bad word about Esme. She was there for me and Dad during Mum's battle with cancer, and she was with me in the delivery room when I gave birth to Milly. That woman is a bloody Saint in my book!"

"Calm down, honey. All I'm saying is that he would have eventually seen those women for what they were. He's not blind," Emmett soothes.

"Thanks, Em," Edward says. "It's nice to know someone is thinking clearly. No offence to you, but I swear your wife gets daft when she's pregnant. Hard to believe she was a solicitor."

"Hey! Placenta Brain is a scientifically proven phenomenon. I read ages ago that some boffins in Australia proved it exists."

"You can remember that, and yet you still can't tell me where you left my spare set of keys for the bikes."

The subject of Rosalie's pregnancy leads my mind back to the likely reason I was brought here in the first place.

"So...," I begin, "Edward told me that you recently married, and now you're having a baby together; even though Emmett has been in the hospital for the last five months. How did that happen?"

**({'})** _You're_ as s_ubtle as a sledgehammer, Swan._


	93. Chapter 93

"I assure you it happened the old-fashioned way," Rosalie begins and then laughs. "I've actually known Emmett for a few years. Emmett was a friend of Dad's back when he was still working in Middle Wallop as a flight instructor for the Army. For two years, Emmett worked in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers as an Avionics Technician. He was only planning on staying in the U.K. for a couple of years, and he needed to rent rooms off base. Since I was married and had already moved out of home, Emmett, and occasionally his daughter, Sarah, from his first marriage, rented the spare rooms at Dad's house.

"Emmett was still living at Dad's when Paul was killed, and I moved home for a while because I didn't want to be alone during the pregnancy. Esme and Dad were newly engaged, but at that stage, they weren't living together. Dad was about to retire from the army, and he planned to marry Esme. Emmett's term of service was due to end, and he was about to move back to the U.S."

Emmett takes up the story. "I had learned of an opportunity to take over a charter company that was running choppers out of the Olympia Regional Airport. For the last few years, the son of the former owner was running the company into the ground. I knew Esme was originally from Washington, and that she still owned a house here, so I mentioned to Carlisle about my plans to go into business for myself, and I asked if he'd be interested in becoming a partner. With him on board, I'd have an instructor as well as a pilot."

Rosalie continues. "Dad jumped at the chance, and Esme was excited to be able to live in Washington again. Esme said she could sell off her share of her antiques shop to the other owner. So the three of them made plans, and they moved to Washington after the wedding, once all the paperwork was in order. I continued to live in Dad's house with a live-in nanny-housekeeper, and I ran my Conveyancing business from home. That way, I could work but still be at home with Milly as she was only a few months old."

Edward speaks up. "A month before Mum and Carlisle got married – I had to travel home for a suit fitting. I was the one who walked Mum up the aisle. At the time, I was still living in the SAS barracks at Credenhill, about two and a half hours away from Andover. My contract with the Army was up for renewal, but after Paul died, I lost my focus. I was wavering back and forth about signing on for another term. When Emmett told Carlisle about the charter business, he mentioned he'd need another pilot. Carlisle told him to ask me if I'd be interested, and I was. Like Mum, I have dual citizenship, so there was no problem moving to the States. I just needed to finish out my term of service."

"So, Esme, Carlisle, and I moved to Washington," Emmett explains. "Esme looked for a new business venture, and she found The Brotherhood Lounge. Carlisle and I negotiated the buy-out of the failing charter company, and we started heading out to various forestry logging companies to see if we could negotiate some heli-logging contracts. When we left Forks, it was dark and raining. We were driving through the Olympic National Park when a fucking humongous bear suddenly came flying in through the windscreen. Carlisle lost control of the car, and then weeks later I woke up with tubes sticking out of every hole. The first thing I saw was this heavenly angel standing next to me, and she was holding my hand." Emmett turns and kisses Rosalie on the forehead, and she closes her eyes and smiles in contentment.

Edward continues. "When Mum rang and told me what happened, I immediately contacted my superiors, and they granted me leave for my final week of service. I rang Rosie, and she organized our flights online while I drove to Andover to pick up her and Milly on the way to Heathrow. So after a nine and a half hour flight with a screaming infant, we arrived at SeaTac and headed straight for Harborview Medical Center."

"Milly had a cold, Edward. She couldn't help it; her ears were probably hurting due to the cabin pressure. Anyway, after two weeks, Carlisle was moved out of ICU. He had multiple facial fractures, a ruptured spleen, broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Emmett here ended up with a closed head injury and multiple leg fractures. Show Bella your legs, honey."

Emmett rolls up the right leg of his pants and what I see tells me that his injuries were extensive. There is a patchwork pattern of scars that shows he has had at least two rotational muscle flaps, a free-flap, and multiple skin grafts. He then rolls up the other side of his pants and what is revealed elicits an involuntary gasp from me because I honestly wasn't expecting it.


	94. Chapter 94

It's a false leg.

Emmett explains. "This leg was the worst of the two, but the docs were hoping to save it. I've had so many surgeries. Muscle flaps, nerve grafts, skin grafts, bone grafts. I had enough hardware in that old leg to set off metal detectors at airports. Unfortunately, it all got infected. Osteomyelitis. It set me back for months, so I was in the acute hospital for a long time on intravenous antibiotics. Then to make matters worse, I ended up with a blood clot in the lung. It was at that point I thought I might die. Rosie was there when it happened. She'd been visiting me on a daily basis to keep me company. She made being in the hospital bearable."

"I swear I thought I was going to lose you that day. The look on your face – I knew you were so frightened," Rosalie says sadly while looking at her husband. She then turns to face me again. "The doctors and nurses were wheeling Emmett out of the room, back towards the ICU. I called out and told Emmett that he had to live because I planned to marry him one day. You see, I'd fallen in love with him.

"Some may think it's strange that I jumped straight into another marriage, but as I mentioned, I've known Emmett for quite some time. My feelings for Emmett first started when I was eight months pregnant, and we were both living at Dad's house. I was so confused. I knew I should have been grieving for Paul – in fact, I was – but still, I couldn't help the way I felt. I spoke to the grief counselor at the Army Widow's Association, and she told me it was okay to move on from Paul – whenever _I_ was ready. She said there was no such thing as a prescribed time for grieving; it's different for everyone. She also reminded me that Paul wouldn't have wanted me to be sad forever. Over and over, when he was alive, Paul told me that all he ever wanted was for me to be happy.

"Even so, I felt guilty. I didn't act on my feelings, and with Emmett moving back to the U.S., I bottled everything inside. However, when I came to Washington to be with Dad, I visited with Emmett too, and my feelings resurfaced. I still wasn't going to encourage a romance between us, even though I knew Emmett was also beginning to show an interest beyond our friendship. But that day, when I thought I was going to lose him, I decided life was too short to adhere to everyone else's expectations. As soon as Emmett was stabilized, he asked me if I'd been serious about marrying him because he had a big decision to make."

Emmett interjects, "_We_ had a big decision to make. For some time, the docs had been saying that it would be up to me as to whether they'd continue to battle to save my leg. After the embolus in my lung, I decided enough was enough, but if Rosie wanted me to keep going, then I would. If she wanted a two-legged husband, then I'd keep going - for her."

"I just wanted him alive and home with me as soon as possible, so I told him that I'd be happy either way; with one leg or two, just as long as we could be together. So a few days before his amputation surgery, we had a minister come to the hospital, and he married us, and thanks to Edward here, we still got to have our wedding night. And the night after that. Then the one after. And then another two nights later." Rosalie giggles.

I raise my eyebrow at Edward, and in response he rolls his eyes.

"See! I told you it was stupid," he grumbles.

"Awww. You're just mad we got caught out by _she-who-shall-not-be-named, _and you got conned into going on a date in exchange for her silence," Emmett says.

"Bloody horny newly-weds. If I'd known they were actually trying for a _honeymoon_ baby, I would have put my foot down sooner."

"We weren't _just_ trying for a baby, but we were hoping," Rosalie counters, and then she smiles at Emmett mischievously. "Like I said, life is short, and I wanted to give him some incentive to come through the surgery and rehab."

"So that's how you ended up on a date under duress?" I ask. "Gianna threatened you?"

"I stole the keys to the Physical Therapy Room from the nurse's desk. I could have been arrested for theft, trespassing, break-and-enter, along with a bunch of other charges, I'm sure. And for the record, the date was horrible. Not only was I uninterested in Gianna, she kept trying to touch my junk during dinner with her foot, and she was wearing ridiculously pointy stilettos. Twice, she nearly skewered my balls as I attempted to move her foot away," he says wincing at the memory.

Emmett laughs. "Poor Eddie boy. Now, every time I go to physical therapy, I get a big smile on my face. They still have no clue as to the real reason I'm smiling," Emmett says with a goofy look on his face.

"Ah, yes. The Room of Requirement. Good times – good times," Rosalie says with an equally sappy expression. Then she gives Emmett a kiss as he places his hand protectively over her baby belly.

"As soon as I get out of here, we're going to have a proper wedding, and I'll be dancing with my beautiful bride and two daughters in my arms," Emmett says proudly.

Edward turns to look at me. "Now you know how Rosalie got pregnant. Like I said on the boat, it was stupid. And now you know all my skeletons and about my crazy family, too. So, unless you'd like to take this opportunity to run away screaming, I'd actually like to take you to lunch so I can get to know you better, and maybe we can get some coffee because I think I'm having serious caffeine withdrawals," he says almost pleadingly.

**({'})** _Wow! And I thought shit like that only ever happened to you, Bella. I think you've met your soul mate._


	95. Chapter 95

Instantly, I burst into laughter. Hysterical laughter. After a full minute of uncontrollable giggles, Edward looks at me with concern. Every time I try to stop laughing, I burst into fits again.

"She looks as if she's gonna pop," Rosalie states nonchalantly.

Emmett seems amused.

"Bella? Are you all right?" Edward asks sincerely as I wipe the tears of laughter from my face.

I look at him and let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just the last three days have been utterly insane and stressful. I guess I just needed a good laugh. Your bizarre story made me realize that I'm not the only person around here who has loads of really weird shit going on in their life on a semi-regular basis. I feel so much better now." I grin.

Edward smiles in return and then stands. He picks up my bag and holds his hand out in my direction. I reach up and take it, and he pulls me into a standing position.

"Can we go to lunch now?" he asks.

"What did you have in mind?"

"There's a Starbucks in the lobby. It's nothing fancy, but I'm buying. Is that okay with you?"

As if on cue, my stomach growls. "Perfect."

Edward reaches over and shakes Emmett's hand good-bye. "Hurry up, and get the hell out of here, Sarge. Rosie and her hormones are driving us all insane."

"I promise I'm working on it. Now that my prosthetic leg fits me properly, I'm doing a lot better. I'm hoping for the end of the week."

"Hey, knock it off you two!" Rosalie snaps testily. "I'll be out of everyone's hair soon enough. I just need to get all the modifications completed to Emmett's house first. At the moment, I have workmen traipsing in and out while they're installing the new flooring, ramps, shower equipment, and safety rails. Once they're done, Milly and I can move in. I can't have Milly crawling around in a demolition zone. And you're one to talk, Eddie. Your hormones are driving me just as batty, Captain_ Broods-a-lot_. Hurry up and get laid already."

Emmett sighs and then extends his arm out to me. I shake his hand as I say good-bye.

"It's been lovely meeting you, Bella. I do hope we'll see you again. Please don't get the wrong idea about Rosie. She's not usually like this; it just seems that when she's pregnant, for the first few months, she has no verbal filter. She thinks it, and then she blurts it out without censoring. Normally, she is one of the most circumspect people you'd ever meet. If Rosie had always been this indiscreet with her thoughts, she never would have had the exceedingly wealthy clientele she had in Andover. So, please, just bear with her for now, and don't take anything she says personally. According to Carlisle, if Rosie's last pregnancy is anything to go by, she should be back to normal in a few weeks."

Rosalie rolls her eyes. "Helloooooooo? Stop speaking about me as if I'm not in the room!"

Emmett ignores her and reaches over to the bedside locker. Snickering at his wife's ire, he picks up his glass of water and takes a sip.

"Just get the hell out of here already, you two," Rosalie rants, "you're intruding on our alone time, and Dad and Esme will be back with Milly soon. I was just about to give Em a blow job before you two interrupted us."

Emmett chokes on his water and then breaks into a coughing fit.

I start laughing again. "Well, good luck with that, Emmett. And I _think_ you'll be seeing me again."

Edward smiles, and together we walk hand in hand out of the room.

Rosalie leaps from the bed and abruptly closes the door behind us. Her words are slightly muffled, but easily heard. "Now… where were we, Sergeant…" Rosalie drawls seductively.

Edward rolls his eyes and shakes his head in exasperation, and I start to giggle.

We walk along the corridor, and as we round the corner, his hand releases mine and he places it on the small of my back, guiding me in closer to him. As we near the nurse's station, Gianna walks toward us, and I sense his posture stiffening as she draws near.

**({'})** _He's MINE! Back off, biotch!_

Gianna's looking at him like a predator, and it seems she's perfectly oblivious to our intimate proximity. I can tell she's going to proposition him right in front of me, so I slow our pace. He looks at me curiously, and I lean in and whisper, "Just play along."

Before he can say anything, I reach my hand up and place pressure on the back of his neck. I pull his head down to my level, and then tip my face up to kiss him with every ounce of desire within me. Although initially surprised, he quickly gets into the moment and reciprocates with just as much passion. His hand is gently cradling the back of my head, and his tongue soon seeks entrance into my mouth. My lips part willingly, and for the first time, our tongues meet. Suddenly, I can hear the sound of orchestral music.

Libby is singing.

**({'})** _The hills are alive with the sound of music... with songs they have sung for a thousand years._

My heart is beating rapidly, and I'm feeling light-headed and horny. As the kiss is momentarily broken, an involuntary moan escapes from the back of my throat. I realize I've been lifted from the ground, and my body has been pressed up against a nearby wall. One of my legs is hitched up around his hip, and he is seductively running his hand up and down along the outer length of my thigh.

"Is she gone yet?" he asks between panting breaths.

"Who in the hell cares!" I whisper, hitching my other leg around him, and I kiss him once again.

This time, it's Edward who moans, and the sound goes straight between my legs.

Libby is seizing uncontrollably.

**({'})** _Gah!_

We are in our own little bubble of bliss when I vaguely hear the sound of a throat clearing behind Edward. Realizing we have been putting on quite a show, Edward releases my thighs so that the floor is under my feet once again. He puts both of his arms around my waist before turning sideways to address our bubble invader. Gianna is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there is another nurse standing there, and her arms are folded over her chest. Thankfully, she's smiling in amusement.

She speaks in a tone of faux exasperation while shaking her head. "Oh, Edward, what am I going to do with you?"

"You could give me the keys to the Physical Therapy Room," he says suggestively while cocking an eyebrow.

I giggle, and the nurse bursts into laughter. "Yeah, I don't think so."

Turning to face the nurse properly, Edward introduces us. "Bella, I'd like you to meet Zafrina, and I'll have you know, she's the bestest most wonderfulest nurse in this hospital."

"Don't try to brown-nose me, Edward, you already promised me and my husband a flight over Mount Rainier for our anniversary. Hey, Bella, it's lovely to see you again. You're looking well."

"You two know each other?" he asks.

"I'll have you know that Bella here was only the _bestest_ most _wonderfulest _speech pathologist this hospital ever had," Zafrina says, mocking Edward's superlative descriptions. "Don't tell me this cheeky reprobate is your boyfriend?"

I laugh. "Who? You mean this guy?" I say jokingly while pointing a finger in his direction. "I've never met him before in my life. He just accosted me in the corridor, and then you came along. You'd better call security."

"Why, you…" Edward growls.

Without warning, he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Bye, Zafrina," he calls out as he walks us out of the ward.

I look down and admire the spectacular sight.

**({'})** _Nice ass! Smack it! Grab it!_

I do as Libby says, and he yelps playfully and then wiggles his ass. I look up and wave at Zafrina, who is laughing at us.

Just before we pass through the outer doors, I yell out, "See ya, Zaffy. Hey, by the way, I think Emmett and Rosalie wanted to see you. We were just coming to get a nurse when we got distracted."

Zafrina nods and then turns in the direction of Emmett's room.

Edward bursts out laughing. "You are so bad, Bella Swan."

"When I'm good, I'm very good. You'll soon learn that when I'm bad – I'm better."

"Well then, I can't wait to find out. But I warn you, bad girls get a spanking."

**({'}) **_Yes, please!_

He playfully smacks my ass.

**({'}) **_Oh, Yes! May I have another?_

I moan before giggling, and Edward laughs again as he pushes the button for the elevator.


	96. Chapter 96

Walking together, we are still laughing as we enter the Starbucks café. We are yanked out of our moment of togetherness by a male voice calling out from across the dining area.

"Edward!"

We both turn in the direction of the voice and see Carlisle is sitting in one of the chairs by the window. He is cradling Milly in his arms and holding a bottle to her lips.

Edward looks up to the ceiling and mutters, "God, why do you do this to me?"

"So, God is out to get you too?" I ask.

"Seems like it. Lately, I can't seem to catch a break."

So as not to appear rude, we walk over toward Carlisle.

"Colonel," Edward says with a slight smirk on his face.

"Captain," Carlisle says semi-seriously as he moves the bottle to his other hand and then shakes hands with Edward. "I see you've calmed down a bit since the last time I saw you."

I snicker at the interaction between the two of them. Despite the fact they are no longer in the Army, it seems the men of this family still like to refer to one another according to their former ranks.

"And Bella!" Carlisle says delightedly. "It seems we meet again. Are you here together?"

Separated from her bottle, Milly grins at me, and some milk spills down her chin. I smile at Milly in return because it's impossible not to do so.

Edward answers for the both of us, "We've just visited with Emmett, and now we're hungry, so we thought we'd have some lunch." Then turning to look at me, he says, "I thought afterward we might head back to the boat for the rest of the afternoon, and maybe I could take you out on the water?"

**({'})** _You can take me anywhere, Captain! On the water, in the water, on the deck, on the trampoline, your berth, the spare berth on top of all of your clothes. And don't think I didn't notice the dining table is height adjustable, or that the padded helm seat reclines all the way back._

"Sure," I say distractedly as I pretend to focus my concentration on Milly. The thought of straddling a naked Edward on a reclined helm seat has left me in a momentary fog of lust.

Like a gentleman, Edward indicates I should take the empty chair next to Carlisle, and I get seated. He stands next to me with his hand resting on the backrest of the chair. He then proceeds to move his fingers in gentle circles on the back of my neck, which unfortunately, is covered with the turtleneck collar of my black, short-sleeved sweater.

"Where's Mum?" he asks, completely oblivious to what his circling fingers do to me.

"She's gone to the car to find Milly's pacifier. She should be back soon."

Carlisle attempts to feed Milly, but she's too busy looking around and waving her hands about. Milk is spilling onto her chin and neck, soaking the neckline of her pretty pink dress.

"Why don't you have a bib on her?" Edward asks. "You know Rosie is going to go spare at you for getting her dress all mucky."

"Oops. Oh well, what do you expect? It's not as if I'm an expert at this stuff. I didn't get to do this with Rosie when she was a baby."

I must've given Carlisle a curious expression because he starts to explain.

"When Lily, Rosie's Mum, put Rosie on a bottle, it was during the Falklands War. I was away from home, flying Sea King helicopters. I was transporting SAS troops in and out of battle. Even though it was a short war, I missed out on this," Carlisle says, moving the bottle slightly to suggest he is talking about bottle feeding. "I missed her first steps and when she said 'Dada' for the first time. Thankfully, I've been given another chance by being blessed with a grandchild, and with another on the way, I'll soon be doubly blessed." Carlisle smiles down at Milly. "You're just playing with this bottle now, aren't you, cheeky girl."

"Edward?" It's Esme's voice.

"Hey, Mum." He turns and gives her a kiss upon the cheek in greeting.

"Hello, Bella! Fancy running into you here," Esme says in surprise.

"It's not a co-incidence, really. We just visited with Emmett. Edward wanted me to meet him, and he explained a few things about your families."

Esme nods as if she understands I've been given a lot of information to take in.

My stomach then growls embarrassingly.

"I should hurry up and feed you, and then we can get out of here," Edward says. "What would you like?"

I give him my order – a venti Caramel Macchiato with extra vanilla syrup and a turkey and Swiss sandwich. I like that he doesn't judge me over my coffee order like Eric used to. In fact, he says he'll have the same, just minus the extra vanilla because apparently he's sweet enough. Esme and I roll our eyes and laugh at his lame line as he heads off to the counter to get our lunch.

Carlisle stands and passes Milly to Esme. "Would you like a coffee to take with us when we go, love?" he asks.

"I'd love one. The usual, thanks." Esme then takes the seat Carlisle just vacated, and she watches her husband leave. I can tell she's checking out Carlisle's ass from the longing sigh that escapes. I snicker, and she looks at me sheepishly before becoming serious.

"I don't know you very well yet, Bella, but I hope you are open-minded enough to accept what happened in the past between Edward, Paul and Rosie. I don't want to see my son being punished for something he did for Paul. He loved Paul like a brother, and vice versa. Growing up, I swear that if one of those boys had ever needed a kidney or a lung transplant, then the other would've been the first to be tested to see if they were compatible. They were that close," she says with a smile. A look in Esme's eyes makes me believe she is fondly reminiscing about the two boys in the past.

"Donating was not a decision he came to lightly. He spoke with me about it first. I told him that if he could disengage himself from the situation and see it as donating a few cells, rather than giving up a child, then I had no issue with his choice. And believe me – Edward doesn't see Milly as his daughter at all. He just helps Rosie out like the rest of us do. When you're living in a house with a baby, there's not much choice but to pitch in. For now, while Emmett is in the hospital, Edward is considered to be Milly's legal guardian, but once Emmett adopts Milly, he will just become Uncle Eddie again."

I'm quick to reassure Esme. "Initially, it was a lot to take in, mainly because of the way the information was first presented to me, but on the forty-minute ride over here, I had some time to think about it. I realized that if the situations were reversed, I would hope any prospective partner would be okay with decisions I'd made in the past. Had I donated my eggs to my best friend because she was otherwise unable to have a baby, I would expect them to respect my choice because, at the time, it was not made with them in mind. Alice is like a sister to me, so if God forbid, she ever needed to ask me for my eggs, I would say 'yes' in a heartbeat, and I would want my future partner to understand why I needed to help her out."

"Even though the process of egg collection is an invasive procedure and involves a lot of medications, injections, and pain?" Esme asks.

"Yes, even then, because ultimately, my pain would be fleeting. The agony of childlessness might last a lifetime, and I wouldn't be able to bear it – watching her go through that pain, and knowing I may potentially hold the key to her happiness."

Esme smiles and her eyes appear to moisten. I smile in return.

We then look in the direction of the counter where Edward and Carlisle are waiting. As if sensing they are being watched, they both turn and look at us. And then they smile.

**({'}) **_Wow! It's the patented panty-dropper in stereo!_

It's that slow, sexy smile that makes your clothes want to melt off.

Esme sighs and I do, too. I notice a few of the other women in the café also do a double-take.

Esme turns to look at me and says conspiratorially, "Carlisle taught him that smile as a teenager. It's called 'The Cullen Knickers Killer,' and it's lethal."

I giggle. "Ah-ha, so that's what it's called. I was calling it 'The Patented Panty-Dropper'."

Esme giggles in return. "Good one. I like it."

"You know Jazz gave Alice the smile when she fell into the pool. Did Carlisle teach him as well?"

Esme nods while still giggling. "Yeah, I saw that, and she totally fell for it, too."

We are still in fits of laughter when Edward and Carlisle return. Edward is smiling in what appears to be a mixture of amusement and relief.

"What are you two giggling Gertie's laughing about?" Carlisle asks curiously.

"Nothing," Esme and I reply simultaneously before bursting into laughter again. Then Milly joins in too, simply because she likes to be in on the fun.

"We must be going now," Esme announces. "We need to head off to visit with Emmett for a while longer, and then we'll go home for Milly's afternoon nap.

Esme stands and secures Milly in her pushchair, allowing Edward to take her seat. Carlisle then says his farewells and proceeds to move the pushchair through the café towards the exit. Edward passes me my sandwich and coffee, and I immediately begin stirring in the caramel sauce and foam.

Just as Esme hoists Rosalie's large diaper bag over her shoulder, she says, "As we were leaving the ward earlier, to give Rosie and Emmett some time alone, we ran into Emmett's rehab specialist. He says it's likely that Emmett will be discharged on Friday. I was thinking of celebrating his return home on Saturday by having a special lunch at our house with the whole family. If you're not busy, Bella, we'd love for you to join us."

I look over to Edward, and the expression on his face tells me that he'd be happy if I accepted the invitation. "That sounds great. I'll be there. Is there anything you want me to bring?"

"Do you have a specialty dish?"

"Well, I've been told my decadent chocolate cake with chocolate mousse filling and chocolate ganache is to die for," I say proudly.

Edward's face lights up. "Yes! Bring that! Definitely bring chocolate cake. Although, you'll probably have to make two cakes because I'll fight off everyone else for it."

"Bravo, dear. You've found his weakness. He's a mad chocoholic. If your cake is as delicious as it sounds, you'll never get rid of him," Esme says smiling at me.

I look at Edward and grin. "That's okay. I don't think I'll be getting rid of him any time soon."

"So, Mum… you were leaving?"

"Don't be so rude," Esme says as she smacks him playfully across the top of his head.

I laugh as he mouths a silent, "_Ouch_," but he's badly overacting. Esme barely touched him.

"I look forward to catching up with you next Saturday, Bella." Turning to Edward, she asks, "Will you be staying on the boat tonight or coming home?"

"I'll be home tonight. I've already stayed on the boat three nights this week," he says with regret in his voice.

"Well, I suppose you'll be coming in late then. You've got your key. Just make sure you don't make as much noise as you did in the early hours of this morning." She gives me a conspiratorial wink.

"Yes, Mum," he says exasperatedly.

There is a knock on the window. "Esme!" Carlisle calls from the other side of the glass. "For goodness sake, woman! Come outside and leave the poor boy alone."

"I knew I loved Carlisle for a reason," Edward mutters.

She huffs and gives her son a kiss on the cheek. Then just like a mom, she wipes the smudge of lipstick off his face before turning to leave the café.

Esme catches up to Carlisle, and as the three of them head off, they give us a parting wave.

Edward and I wave back.


	97. Chapter 97

"Alone at last," he says with relief.

"Aww. Don't be like that. I like your family. You're very fortunate to have them."

"Tell me about your family. You seem to know all about me, and yet I barely know anything about you. All I know is that you work at a hospital as a Speech Pathologist, and you teach swimming. Last night, I learned you have a prick of an ex, and I swear if I ever see him or any of his _friends_ near you again, he will regret the day he was born." He pauses and appears to think before adding, "I also know you wear smoking-hot underwear and sometimes no underwear at all." He grins wickedly. "So, come on, mystery girl – fill me in."

I laugh and blush at his summation. "There's not a lot more to tell, actually. As far as my family goes, I'm an only-child. I was born in Forks, where my dad started out as a rookie cop before moving us to Olympia when I was one year old. Now, he's the Chief of Police. My mom, Renee, left me and my dad when I was five. She was young when she fell pregnant, and my dad only married her out of obligation. It didn't work out, obviously. Renee doesn't keep in touch very often, and as far as I know, she's living with some guy in Sydney, Australia."

"So, there's no other family then? No half-siblings?"

I shake my head. "No. Renee has been engaged a few times but didn't have any kids after me. And for the first time in years, my dad apparently has a new girlfriend, but I haven't met her yet. I'm glad he's dating though. I was beginning to lose hope that he'd ever put himself out there after the last woman he dated turned out to be married and had four kids."

As we continue our lunch, we talk about various topics from why I decided to become a speech pathologist, to how I detested my dad's occupation when I was trying to be a rebellious teenager. Edward is surprised to learn I have never been outside of the States, and that I don't even own a passport. Edward, of course, has been to almost every continent thanks to Army life.

"Before Emmett asked me to become the third owner of Cullen-McCarty Helicopter Charters, I was planning on sailing my boat to Turkey and back. I had plans to sail solo from Portsmouth on the south coast of England, along the coasts of France and Portugal, passing through the Strait of Gibraltar. I then planned to sail along the coasts of Spain and Italy, then to Greece and Turkey through the Mediterranean Sea."

"That sounds amazing, but isn't it scary doing it alone."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Once I accepted Emmett and Carlisle's proposal, I decided that when my term of service was finished with the Army, I'd sail across the Atlantic from Portsmouth to Boston instead. From there I planned to have a custom-made boat trailer waiting so I could tow the boat cross-country to Washington."

"But obviously that didn't happen. You've mentioned before that you, Rosie, and Milly arrived in Seattle a week before your service was up." He nods while taking a sip of his coffee. "So how did your boat get to Washington?"

"I hired a crew of two – a husband and wife team. They sailed her instead. Once Carlisle was out of the hospital, I flew to Boston, bought the Volvo and then just took my time driving back to Washington, stopping when I felt too tired or saw something interesting to look at."

"Do you still have plans to sail off into the sunset one day?"

"Maybe. No idea of where I'll go, but I hope to take at least one noteworthy sea voyage in my lifetime." Observing that I've finished my lunch, Edward asks, "Are you ready to head back to the marina? The weather is perfect, and I can't wait to get out on the open water with you."

"Yep. I'm looking forward to it. I've never been on a boat bigger than a dinghy before."

Edward stands, grabs my bag and then holds out his hand to me. I take hold of his hand, and he helps me up. Holding both of my hands in his, he stands before me, and his gaze locks with mine. His eyes are brimming with excitement.

"I have so much to show you, Bella. It's going to be great. Welcome to my world, crew-mate Swan."

He then leans down and gives me a gentle kiss. Although this kiss is somewhat chaste and more restrained than the kiss we shared back in the ward, it still elicits the same reaction from Libby, and she begins to sing.

**({'}) **_Love, exciting and new… come aboard, we're expecting you. Love, life's sweetest reward… Let it flow, it floats back to you._

Mentally, I curse at Libby. Seriously? Did she have to pick the theme to '_Love Boat_'? Now I'm gonna have that song stuck in my head all freakin' day.

-oo0oo-

Edward and I have been out on the open water for about an hour, but already I understand how easily someone can become addicted to sailing. We are both perched out on a comfy, mesh-covered twin-seat. I am sitting sideways on the seat so that my legs are resting over the top of his thighs. His left arm is around my shoulders, and my head is resting comfortably on his chest. Once again, those magical fingers are drawing lazy circles on my skin. This time it's the skin of my left upper arm receiving the attention.

With his right hand, he moves the wooden tiller extension to maneuver the boat through the various inlets and basins of Puget Sound. It feels as though we are flying over the water. According to Edward, we are doing somewhere around fifteen knots or approximately seventeen miles per hour. It seems so much faster.

The sound of the trimaran as it deftly slices through the water, and the force of the wind as it rushes past our faces, add to the perception of high speed. It's exhilarating. This feeling of freedom is phenomenal – a drug-free high.

It's a beautiful day, and the sky seems bluer than I've ever seen it; the water, too. Dotted here and there, small, wispy white clouds break up the blue expanse of the sky. Mount Rainier, with its permanently glaciated peaks, dominates the southeastern horizon. From my position, I inhale the odor of salt on the air and Edward's masculine scent. I want to take in expansive, greedy lungfuls of air because a part of me wishes to capture this moment within me forever.

I look up, and Edward's face appears at ease, serene, and yet happy. And for the first time in ages, I feel the same way. My hair is flying about my face in all directions, and it's more than likely a tangled mess, but I don't care. I can't recall a time where I have felt so comfortable in the presence of a man without always needing to speak to fill in the silence. With Edward, there are no awkward silences. We seem to be equally content to take in our surroundings and just enjoy the experience of being together on the boat.

Maybe it's because I'm feeling so happy that everything around me seems colorful and bright. It's as though, until now, my life has been lived in a dull sepia tone, and suddenly I've been shown Technicolor.

A couple of harbor seals can be seen lazing on the shore, and he smiles when I point them out. All is right in the world, and I never want this day to end. Here under Edward's arm, and occasionally his soft lips, I feel as though I've found Heaven.


	98. Chapter 98

**Monday… 18th June, midday.**

"Okay Mr. Banner, I'm going to feed you to assess how you are swallowing. I want you to take in a spoonful of the apple sauce and just hold it in your mouth. Then I want you to take in a deep breath, hold the breath, and then swallow. Then I want you to cough,"Renata says.

I'm watching the new Speech Pathology student. I'm ascertaining how competent her assessment skills are.

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

I hit a button to silence the pager that is clipped to the waistband of my pants.

From the extension number displayed on the screen, I can see it's Maggie, the receptionist for the Allied Health Department, and I wonder why on Earth she would be paging me.

I'm running ahead of schedule, and I don't have to be in the Outpatient Clinic until 2.00p.m.

Renata spoons the apple sauce into Bert's mouth.

"Deep breath. Hold. Swallow… and cough."

Bert produces a moderate strength cough.

"Very good," Renata says encouragingly.

I ask Renata to perform a number of tests to determine Bert's ability to swallow and cough. If he can protect his airway adequately, he can recommence eating and drinking. We don't want to run the risk of aspiration and pneumonia following his stroke, so it's necessary to be thorough.

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

For the time being, I hit silence and ignore my pager. Instead, I go in search of the nurse who is caring for Mr. Banner, while Renata tests Bert to determine if he is capable of tolerating water from a spoon.

With our assessment completed, I'm satisfied Bert will be able to protect his airway well enough to begin a diet of pureed foods and thickened fluids.

"Let's see how you go with the diet for now, and we'll see you again on Thursday to assess how you are going. I'll call the dietician, and she will come and work out a meal plan with you. You'll get to eat some dinner tonight, and if you continue to do well, we can possibly take the feeding tube out of your nose after the next assessment."

Bert nods. He gives my wrist a gentle pat with his unaffected hand. One of his rheumy eyes crinkles, and he gives me a lopsided smile.

He can no longer speak, but I can see his gratitude in the remaining half of his expression.

I head back to the nurse's station to write up my findings and recommendations in the patient case notes. I also need to contact Kebi, the dietician, so she can organize Bert's meal plan.

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

Damn pager.

I silence it again.

Unclipping the pager from my waistband, I look around for a phone that is not currently being used by any nursing or medical staff. There are five phones in the damn ward, and all of them are in use.

I wish I had my iPhone back already.

I offer up a silent prayer for my beloved phone, which is currently in for repair.

During my morning coffee break, I'd walked to a nearby mall and dropped it in at a repair store for a thorough drying.

The old guy at the counter took one look at my phone in its airtight container of rice, and he rolled his eyes before asking, "Toilet, tub, kitchen sink, puddle, or ocean?"

He then said I would be able to pick it up after work.

**({'})** _You should also send up a prayer and hope whoever is taking care of your iPhone doesn't go looking through the GoodReader or Pocket Fiction apps. _

Shit!

Libby is right. Some of the smutty stories I've saved in those apps would probably give the old guy a stroke.

Finally, one of the phones becomes available, and I dial Maggie.

"Mags? It's Bella. What's so urgent that you had to page me three times?"

"Bella, you need to come here and see this," Maggie says excitedly. "There was this extremely hot guy in a suit lookin' for you, but you never answered your pager. He said to tell you that he was sorry he missed you, but he had an important meetin' to attend. He's left you somethin' on your desk. Get down here right now!"

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute."

She must be talking about Edward.

At least, I hope it was him.

**({'}) **_Edward was here! And we missed him. Not fair!_

I can't believe he came here to see me. My heart does a little back flip in excitement.

"Renata? Can you call the dietician for me, please? You can advise her that Mr. Banner will be able to commence a moist-minced diet with thickened fluids tonight. Then take off for your lunch break, and I'll meet you back at the department."

I give the phone to Renata, and proceed to write a summation of our evaluation in Mr. Banner's case file.

As I enter the reception area of the Allied Health Department, I can see Maggie is literally bouncing in her seat.

"Oh my God, Bella. The guy who was just here… is he your new boyfriend?" Maggie gives me a better description of my surprise visitor, and it certainly sounds like Edward.

Although, the term_ boyfriend_ somehow seems juvenile. It makes us sound as though we're still in high school.

We've only been together for half a day, and I have no idea of what we are yet. We just agreed we wanted to see each other again. Plus, his mom has already invited me to lunch next Saturday, anyway.

Maggie waves her hand in front of her face as if she is going to swoon. I understand her reaction perfectly.

"I sort of went on a first date with him yesterday," I explain.

"Wow… must have been some date then. Take a look in your office."

I walk down the corridor and open the door to my office. It's an office I share with two other Speech Pathologists named Nettie and Tia.

As usual, sitting on the back corner of my desk, is my potted gerbera daisy with three large, red blooms.

However, in the center of my desk, is a Venti sized Starbucks cup.

Somehow, I already know it's a caramel macchiato with extra vanilla.

Lying in front of the cup is a single rose.

And a small, white card is attached.

'**_Edward xx_**' is written on the card in an elegant black script.

Without picking up the rose, I turn the card over.

In a hasty blue scrawl it says,

**_Bella_,**

**_When you get your phone back, please call me._**  
><strong><em>I don't think I can wait until Saturday to see you again.<em>**

**_E – xx_**

**({'})** *_Swoon_*

And even though he already gave me his cell number yesterday, he has written it on the card as well.

Maggie comes bursting into the office and stands next to my desk.

"So, Bella, do tell me how you manage to get a fuck-hot man to fall for you after only one date." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I turn and look at her, stunned and confused at what she has just said.

"What?"

Maggie picks up the rose and hands it to me.

I inhale its lovely fragrance.

"It's all in the choice of color," she explains. "You do know what a thorn-less yellow rose with red tips means, don't you?"

I shake my head.

I have absolutely no idea.

And that's because no one has ever bought me flowers before.


	99. Chapter 99

I stare at the beautiful rose in my hand, and I inhale its heady fragrance again as Maggie explains its significance. "Well for a start, givin' someone a thorn-less rose of any color means _love at first sight_." I look up at her in surprise. "What? You don't believe in love at first sight?" she asks incredulously.

I recall the time Edward and I first met, and I can't comprehend how he would consider any of that time as love at first sight. For me, there was certainly lust, but _love_?

I shrug. "So what does the color mean then?"

"It can mean two things, actually. It can indicate friendship with the promise of somethin' more, but it can also signify fallin' in love. Given that the rose is thorn-less, I'd wager it's sayin' he's fallin' in love. Sounds like_ Mr. Fuck-hot-in-a-suit_ has got it real bad for you."

"How do you know all this stuff about flowers?"

"My aunt is a florist, and I used to work in her store durin' the holidays as a teen," she explains. "So, come on Swan, spill it. How'd you manage to land Mr-Fuck-hot? You got some sort of magic vajayjay that's got him down on his knees professin' his love for you after one date?"

**({'})** _You don't know the half of it, lady. Unfortunately, neither does Edward. I **wish** he was down on his knees._

I flush tomato-red at her insinuation.

"It's not like that! We've only kissed and hugged a few times. We've decided to take things slowly so we can get to know each other properly."

**({'}) **_Stupidest idea EVER! _

"Well if I were you, I'd be grabbin' hold of Mr. Fuck-hot and never lettin' go. He's a keeper, hun. I wish my man was half as thoughtful and sweet. He'd surely be gettin' more lovin' if he sent me flowers and coffee."

"His name is _Edward, _okay, and the fact you have six kids under the age of ten, tells me that your husband isn't exactly hard up for sex."

Maggie laughs. "True. Denyin' him would only be denyin' myself the pleasure. And you know how pregnancy makes me horny twenty-four-seven," she says giving me a wink.

**({'})** _Yes, just rub it in my face, why don't you. *sigh* I wish I was Maggie's vag because I'm pretty sure my hymen grew back about a year ago… or maybe that's just cobwebs and dust bunnies... _

I look at the card attached to the rose and read the message again. I decide the end of the workday, when I pick up my phone from the repairer, is too long to wait. I want to talk to him right now.

"Will you please excuse me? I need to make a call, and then I'm going to take my lunch in my office."

"So, you gonna call Mr. Fuck-hot?" she asks excitedly.

I roll my eyes at her and nod. Maggie gives me the two thumbs up and then bounces out of my office. I dial Edward's number, and he answers on the fourth ring.

_"Cullen-McCarty Charters, this is Edward Cullen..."_ I can hear the sound of traffic in the background. He must be in his car on the way to his meeting.

"Edward?"

_"Bella!"_

"Hey, I got your message and the lovely rose. Thank you. It's beautiful. No one has ever bought me flowers before."

_"You're kidding."_

"No, I'm not. So it actually means a lot to me."

_"Well, I'm glad to be the first… and just so you know, I may randomly start sending you flowers to let you know I'm thinking of you."_

I sigh. He's such a sweet man. "Thanks for the coffee, too. You're a life saver. I'm really sorry I missed you. I was with a patient, and I didn't realize you would be visiting me at work. I hope Maggie didn't drool on you too much while you were waiting in vain for me to answer my pager."

He laughs. _"She was harmless enough, and I understand you were busy. The reason I dropped by was because I simply wanted to see you again before Saturday. I was just wondering if you were doing anything after work today?"_

On returning home last night, after Edward and I had shared a pizza while relaxing on the trampoline of the boat, I had remembered I needed to organize a tow truck to get my truck to a garage or else I'd be stuck catching the bus for a while. I'd called my dad to ask if he could recommend anyone. During the course of the conversation, he'd asked if I wanted to come over for coffee after work.

"I have plans to go to my dad's house for coffee. Last night, he said he needed to talk to me about something, but he didn't want to do it over the phone. I have a feeling it has something to do with his girlfriend, so I said, 'Yes.'"

_"Oh…"_

**({'})** _There you go, disappointing him again. What in the Hell is wrong with you?_

"But… if you don't mind meeting my dad, I'm sure he wouldn't be too upset if you came along with me. Then we could perhaps go out afterward."

Actually, that could work out quite well. If Edward came with me to my dad's house, Dad wouldn't be expecting it, and he'd be less likely to answer the door in his uniform; complete with gun belt and a loaded handgun. In the past, Dad used his position as Police Chief to threaten potential boyfriends. My only regret is that when I'd taken my ex to meet Dad for the first time, he didn't sufficiently scare Eric to send him running for the hills.

**({'})** _Or shot him in the groin._

Through the phone, I can hear the car engine come to a stop. He must have arrived at his destination and is getting out of the car.

_"If you don't mind having me tag along, I'd like to meet your dad. You've met my insane family, so I guess it's only fair I should meet yours."_

"Are you insinuating my family is insane?" I tease. "Because the chief is straight up the sanest, most serious dude you will ever meet – and he has a gun; several, in fact."

_"Wha-? No… that's not what I meant. I meant-"_

"I'm just kidding. I know what you meant." I laugh.

_"Okay then, what time do you want me to pick you up?"_

"I'm finishing at four today, and then I need to pick up my phone. Can you meet me out the front of the mall at around four-thirty?"

_"Sure. I look forward to it."_

I give Edward the address of the mall, and he reluctantly tells me that he has to end our call because he's heading to a meeting.

As I eat my home packed lunch and drink my lukewarm coffee, I pick up the pretty rose once again and stare at it. Silently, I wonder if Edward knew of the rose's meaning when he purchased it, or if it had merely been a random choice.


	100. Chapter 100

**_Monday afternoon… 4.15pm._**

I got out of work a little earlier than expected as my last clinic appointment had been canceled. I'm a little early for meeting up with Edward, so I find an empty bench to sit on. I turn on my repaired and professionally dried iPhone and check my emails.

There are over fifty new email notifications in my inbox, and a significant proportion of them ask me if I want to buy a high-end replica Rolex, which is an oxymoron in itself. There are several emails to inform me that I can get 80% off the price of Cialis, Levitra or Viagra for my erectile dysfunction issues. And there's another email directing me to a website where I can apparently learn which products will work best if I want a penis enlargement. I also have two invites for local sex hook-ups. One is from _BlondSasha_ and another from _littlemisslily. _

Yeah… Somehow, I don't think so.

I check my phone messages. Most of them are from Saturday morning, consisting of Alice demanding that I, "Answer the damn phone," and then there's one from last night, asking me to ring her back as soon as I get my phone fixed because she wants to know about me and Edward. I think I'll make her sweat a little longer.

As though my body is somehow attuned to his presence, I look up and see Edward walking across the parking lot toward me.

**({'}) **_Boom-chicka-wow-wow! Maggie was right about Edward in that suit!_

Fuck. Hot. I have no other words to describe him right now.

The suit is charcoal gray, and it's perfectly tailored to his physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, long legs… _ungh! _His business shirt is snowy-white, and his tie is black with thin, white, silver, lavender and blue diagonal stripes.

**({'}) **_Ooooooh! I love the tie._

Thanks to Libby, I suddenly have a vision of Edward naked, sprawled out on my bed, wearing only the tie – as a blindfold.

In a lust-hazed fog, I stand to greet him, and my phone accidentally slips from my grasp. Thanks to his quick reflexes, my phone falls safely into his palm instead of smashing to the ground.

"Here, you dropped this," he says into my ear as he carefully slides my iPhone into my open handbag.

The rose is sticking out of the front end of my bag. Its long stem is carefully tucked inside with the end of the stem wrapped in a damp Kleenex and Saran wrap to prevent it from wilting.

Edward wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me gently on the lips in greeting. My eyelids flutter to a close and my heart frantically leaps about in my chest. I don't know if I will ever get used to having this magnificent specimen of a man so close to me; kissing me and touching me. A part of me keeps expecting to wake up as if from a wonderful dream.

He breaks our kiss and then gently places a kiss on my forehead. As he speaks, his lips brush lightly against my skin. "Would it be weird to say that I've missed you?" he asks. "I know we only saw each other last night, but I can't stop thinking about you." He pulls back slightly to look into my eyes.

I shake my head. "No, it's not weird at all. I feel the same way. Last night after you took me home, I felt so sad our day had ended."

It was true. Last night, I had stood at the end of my driveway and watched the retreating tail light of the motorcycle until it turned the corner and disappeared from view. In that moment, I felt like a junkie coming down from a massive high. I couldn't fathom how quickly I had become addicted to being in his presence, and I was eagerly looking forward to my next hit of Edward. I'm so glad I didn't have to wait too long.

Edward glances back to my handbag and lifts a hand to brush a finger gently over the edges of the rose petals. He then looks directly into my eyes again. From his expression, it looks as though he wants to ask me something, but then he seems to change his mind. Instead, he turns to face the parking lot, and he takes my hand in his. "Are you ready to go to your father's house?" he asks, smiling.

"Are you ready to face the firing squad?" I ask half-jokingly as we walk toward the Volvo.

"You forget. I've been in combat situations. I'm sure I can handle one old man with a hand-gun."

"Did I mention he's an expert marksman, and he owns a few shotguns too?"

He just laughs. "Stop worrying, Bella. Fathers love me. You'll see."

-oo0oo-

I can't believe my dad is doing this.

The only thing that could make this moment even more awkward would be my dad shining a light directly into Edward's face as he interrogates him.

"Do you have a wife, ex-wife, stalker ex-girlfriends, or any dependent children?"

"No, sir."

"Do you have any mental-health problems?"

"No, sir."

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"No, sir."

"Are you gainfully employed?"

"I'm a helicopter pilot, and I co-own a charter business with my step-father and step-brother-in-law. Before that, I was a helicopter pilot in the Army, sir."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Edward pauses. "Yes, in the line of duty, and it's something I do not wish to discuss as it is classified information."

"Do you take any illegal substances or participate in the distribution or manufacture of them?"

"Absolutely not, sir."

"Do you drink alcoholic beverages regularly or to excess?"

"I have on occasion had one too many drinks, but I have always made certain not to drive or operate any heavy machinery while under the influence…, sir."

"Hmm. You've got an answer for everything, haven't you, _boy_?" Dad says, eyeing Edward suspiciously.

Suddenly, the sound of the timer on the coffee maker offers Edward a reprieve from Dad's barrage of questions, and he gives Edward one more baleful glare before stalking off into the kitchen to get the coffee.

Edward squirms uncomfortably in the single sofa seat, the place normally reserved for my dad.

"I am so, so sorry. I don't know what has gotten into him. He's usually not this bad," I say apologetically.

"It's okay. I'm perfectly fine with it. He's just trying to make sure I'm good enough for his only daughter."

"Trying to ruin my life, more like it," I moan.

Edward is still squirming in his seat and fiddling with something between the back of the sofa and the seat cushion. He looks down at the item in his hand, lets out a single laugh and quickly places whatever it is into his pocket.

I'm just about to ask what on Earth he is doing, when Dad walks in with a serving tray with the pot of coffee, cream, and the sugar bowl. I do the honors and pour the coffee before settling back into my seat. I'm still waiting to hear why my dad wanted to speak with me in person, and I am just about to ask him, when Dad aims another question at Edward.

"Do you have any homosexual tendencies?"

"_Dad!_ That is quite enough!" I yell.

He ignores me and continues to stare Edward down. I can't believe how badly my dad is behaving.

"Mr. Swan, sir. May I please speak with you privately?" he asks Dad respectfully, even though my father is behaving like an ass.

Dad nods. "Let's go outside, _boy_."

They stand, and as Edward walks past me, following my dad toward the back door, he brushes his fingers gently along my cheek and gives me a wink.

"Don't look so worried," he says in amusement.

I have no idea why Edward is so confident. If Dad manages to scare Edward off, I swear I will never speak to him again. He wasn't even this rude toward Eric when they first met.

I watch as they pass through the archway into the kitchen, and I hear the telltale sound of the screen door as it squeaks open and slams shut. I'm dying to hear what Edward is saying to my dad. I just hope it's nothing that will earn him a bullet wound. I glance over to the hallway stand, and I can see Dad's Smith & Wesson semi-automatic pistol. Thankfully, it's nestled safely in the holster attached to his utility belt.

-oo0oo-

After several agonizing minutes, and two cups of coffee, I'm just about to look out of the kitchen window, to make sure Dad isn't burying Edward's corpse in the yard, when I hear the sound of laughter. I move to the kitchen entrance and see them walking through the back door.

My dad is smiling and has a hand resting on Edward's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. Edward looks up, and on seeing me, he gives me a wink and a smirk. He walks toward me, and as soon as he is close enough, he gives me a quick kiss on the lips.

"See… nothing to worry about," he says quietly, before wrapping his arms around me.

Dad walks over to the refrigerator, opens it and then calls over his shoulder, "You wanna beer, Edward?"

"Sure, Charlie, that'd be great."

Dad hands him a beer and moves back into the living room with his own can. He then plonks himself down on the sofa and pulls out his cell phone, firing off a quick text to someone.

**({'})** _Charlie? Since when has your dad ever allowed any of your dates to call him by his first-name – let alone, given them a beer?_

The answer is never, and I stare at Edward in incredulity. Somehow, he has managed to dazzle my dad.

"By the way, I hope you don't mind, but we've been invited to stay for dinner. Charlie's inviting his fiancée over, and she's bringing Chinese takeaway," he informs me matter-of-factly. "Apparently, they have an announcement they want to make."

My eyebrows shoot up somewhere in the vicinity of my hairline and my jaw drops.

He strolls casually into the living room and then Dad and Edward launch into a conversation about boats and fishing. They are chatting as if they are long lost friends while drinking beer and watching the sports channel. I feel as though I've entered the twilight zone.

**({'}) **_What the...?_

Fiancée? My dad is… _engaged? _And he's getting along famously with my new… whatever Edward is. I shake my head as if I can't believe I'm not dreaming, and I take the seat next to my dad on the two-seater sofa.

-oo0oo-

**_Forty minutes later…_**

The sound of the doorbell interrupts Dad and Edward's conversation, and Dad quickly gets up out of his seat to answer the front door.

Edward turns and gives me a smile. He looks so relaxed and happy – and devilishly smug.

From the front door, I can hear the sound of voices. More than two voices, in fact.

"Come through, come through. I want you to meet my daughter, and her new boyfriend," Dad says excitedly.

**({'}) **_See… Edward seems perfectly okay with being called your boyfriend._

I look at him, and I can see he is staring back at me affectionately.

Dad reappears in the living room, and behind him, there are three people – two women and one man. I recognize one woman, and my jaw drops.

She recognizes me too, and then laughs before saying, "Seems as though we might end up being sisters, Bella."

**({'})** _Oh,_ y_ou've got to be fucking kidding me!_


	101. Chapter 101

Just seeing Leah Clearwater makes me want to cross my legs as a protective maneuver. The vivid memory of how she managed to denude my lady-garden is still too disturbing to comprehend. Today is the first day, since my accidental Brazilian waxing incident, where I have managed to tolerate a hot shower, and I have been able to forgo using the topical anesthetic cream on my battered and bruised nether region. Knowing how Leah had blabbed to Jake Black about my unfortunate experience, I quickly stand and cross the room. I embrace Leah as if we are lifelong friends.

"If you mention anything about what happened on Friday night, I will tell The Chief and your mom the reason why you and your underage date were both thrown out of The Broho last Saturday night," I hiss under my breath next to her ear.

"How did you-?" Leah then looks over my shoulder and an expression of recognition flashes across her face when she sees Edward standing up.

"Deal," Leah says quickly.

"You two know each other?" my dad asks.

"Leah is a friend of Alice's. We've met once or twice before," I say, plastering a fake smile on my face.

**({'})** _Twice to be perfectly accurate._

"Bella, I'd like you to meet Sue Clearwater, and this young man is Sue's son, and Leah's twin brother, Seth. Seth is one of the new recruits down at the station. That's how Sue and I first met," he explains.

Sue appears to be in her early forties. Seth, like Leah, is twenty years of age.

Seth shakes my hand politely and says, "Hello."

"It's nice to meet you, Bella," Sue says warmly. "I've heard so much about you from your father, I feel as though I already know you." She moves in to embrace me.

"Huh… that's funny because up until now, I didn't know your last name, and then a few minutes ago, I learned that you and my dad are engaged. And dad wasn't even the one to tell me. I had to hear it in passing from Edward," I say accusingly while staring daggers at my dad.

"Is this true, Charlie?" she asks."

"Um… it may have slipped my mind," dad says sheepishly.

"So, that was your big announcement? You and Sue are getting married?" I ask.

"Er… no… well, yes, we are getting married, but we have something else to tell you," Dad says.

He then moves closer to Sue and places a hand over her abdomen.

"We're having a baby," Sue announces quietly.

My eyes widen in shock, and I stumble back slightly. Feeling the edge of a soft cushion hit the back of my legs, I flop down unsteadily onto the sofa. I'm stunned. I'm happy for my dad – but I'm stunned by the announcement.

**({'})** _Yeah… it's a sad day when you realize your middle-aged father is getting some action… and you're not!_


	102. Chapter 102

When I was an adolescent girl, I thought I had it all figured out. I was going to meet and marry Han Solo, and then I was going to have babies. Lots and lots of babies. Well, at least three babies. As I was an only child, three seemed like a lot of babies to someone like me.

Don't judge me. I was twelve years of age when I decided on my grand plan. Reading about Han and Leia's first kiss in "The Empire Strikes Back" did something funny to my insides. I must have read that particular chapter over a hundred times.

Sadly, things never worked out for Han and me. I was what you would call a _late bloomer_, and socially I was a bit shy. Furthermore, Han Solo is a fictional character, and there's no way he'd ever leave someone as sophisticated as Princess Leia for the likes of me, even if she does have silly hair. Leia was royalty, and I just can't top that.

I was twenty-two when Mr. Brandon took over the aquatic center from Mr. Greene. It was then I met Alice, when she was just seventeen. Despite our age difference, Alice became my best friend, and she helped me to come out of my shell. Or to quote Alice, she helped to, "Turn the duckling into a swan."

My _innocence_ was lost at age twenty-three, to Randall Henderson, a man who was originally only meant to be a one-night stand to get rid of my V-card. Randall seemed like a pleasant enough guy when we first met, but during the three months that we dated, I realized he was quite the momma's boy. It seemed he was searching for a woman to take over the role of his mom; just with sex as an added benefit. The first time I watched on as Mary, his mom, carefully and lovingly cut his chicken into tiny, bite-sized pieces in front of him at the dining table, should have caused warning bells to ring loudly inside my head.

_Peel me a fucking grape. Puh-leeeese._

Somehow, I knew I would never measure up to his mom's standards. I mean… she even ironed his underwear for fuck sake! Mary was nothing but a slave to her family, and I decided I didn't want to be with a man who treated me as if I were nothing more than a servant. And don't even get me started on how he always compared me to his mom.

The day we broke up, Randall had complained that I didn't cut his sandwich the right way – the way his mom did. I threw the knife down on the kitchen counter and told him that I was done. As I grabbed my bag and walked towards the front door, I told him that I was leaving because I no longer wanted to be judged according to his mother's standards. As a parting shot, I said, "If your mom is so great, then maybe you should ask her to suck your dick too." I walked out and never looked back.

What followed, from age twenty-three to twenty-five, was a series of dates with more men who didn't measure up. My college friends, and then work colleagues, would try to set me up on blind dates, or they would include me on outings where I was clearly destined to be paired up with the only other single member of the group, but they never progressed beyond the first date. And then I met Eric.

I still don't know what I saw in him besides his good looks and designer suits, but somehow, after only being together for a few weeks, he quickly moved into my life and my house. I guess I assumed because he lived with me, he was committed to our relationship. After we had been together for about a year, I was beginning to have serious doubts. When I told Eric that I was thinking about breaking up with him, he turned around and asked me to marry him.

In hindsight, I came to realize it was just a way for Eric to keep stringing me along for the next two years. Whenever I broached the subject of setting a date to get married, he'd give me excuses and say the time wasn't right, and it would be better if we postponed the wedding until the following year.

And of course, then we broke up. To this day, I still have no idea of how long he cheated on me.

And here I am, two years later...

I'm a few months away from turning thirty-one; I'm unmarried, childless, and in six months time, I'm about to be a big sister to a newborn sibling. This is not how I imagined my life would be. It shouldn't be my dad making pregnancy announcements at his age. It's meant to be me.

I'm happy for Dad and Sue, but a part of me is in mourning for my own situation. _I_ want what they're having. Also, a part of me believes my Dad might be making a mistake. Dad married Renee after knocking her up, and now it seems history is repeating itself. Will this new relationship with Sue end up the same way, or will their child have the benefit of receiving the love of two committed parents, which is something I never got to experience?

Why am I thinking such negative things? What in the fuck is wrong with me?

**({'}) **_You're jealous._

Yes, I'm jealous. And now I feel like a horrible daughter and a horrible person.

As I'm trying to chew and swallow my dinner past the tight stricture in my throat, I suddenly feel the brush of a hand as it touches my knee underneath the tablecloth. Long fingers begin their familiar circling patterns on the inside of my knee, and they instantly calm me. I turn to look at Edward, and I can see he is regarding me with concern.

He leans in and quietly asks, "Are you okay?"

I nod and give him a weak smile. He gives me a gentle kiss on the temple.

Not long after the dinner dishes are removed from the table, Edward makes some excuses about needing to leave. I'm thankful as I want to be with Edward – alone. We need to talk. I need to lay all my cards down on the table because I feel as though life is passing me by.

My dad hugs me goodbye, but only after Sue embraces me in parting first. And it's weird - because I can't even recall the last time my dad hugged me.


	103. Chapter 103

As Edward drives to my home, my mind replays the entire evening, from the moment my dad answered the front door to the awkward hugs when we left.

"You're being very quiet," he says.

"Yeah… sorry, it's just I never figured I'd become a big sister at the age of thirty-one."

Appearing stunned, he turns to look at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Hmm. How do I say this so that you don't take it the wrong way?" He pauses before continuing. "I had no idea you were in your thirties. I thought you were around my age or maybe a year younger."

**({'})** _Does Edward wear contacts? Prescription glasses? _

**({'})**_ Mmmm… glasses. Talk nerdy to me, Edward._

"I'll be thirty-one in September, and I already know you are a few years younger than me. Is that going to be a problem for you – dating an _older_ woman?" I give him a mock-scowl.

**({'}) **_PleaseSayNo. PleaseSayNo. PleaseSayNo._

He laughs. "Of course not, but you just proved my point. I tell you that you look young for your age, and instead you totally ignore my compliment and focus on the fact that you are older than me. I've noticed you find it hard to accept admiration."

I blush and then childishly poke my tongue at him. He reaches over and takes hold of my hand. He entwines our fingers and brings the back of my hand up to his lips to plant a kiss there. He then drops our hands to rest on his thigh.

**({'})** _Your hand… it's… just… inches… away. _

**({'}) **_Just move up. A little higher. Stretch those fingers, Bella._

We continue the journey in comfortable silence. I then remember I have unanswered questions.

"What did you find down the back of the sofa, and why did you ask to speak to my dad privately?"

He laughs and then looks at me with a dubious expression.

"What?" I ask.

"I could tell you, but you might not like what you hear."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"Are you sure? Because I'm warning you, there are just some things that are better left unknown."

"I don't want us to have any secrets. My last relationship was full of them, and I got very hurt. If you're serious about me, then you'll need to be open and honest with me at all times."

He nods and then sighs. "I asked Charlie to step outside for two reasons; firstly, I needed to return his handcuffs."

Okay… I'm confused.

"Why would you need to step outside for that? Dad uses handcuffs for work all the time. They must have fallen out of his utility belt or something. It's lucky you found them or else Dad would have needed to report them as missing."

Edward chuckles and then bites his bottom lip in an attempt to stop smiling. "Um… the cuffs weren't exactly standard police issue." He raises his eyebrows at me.

It's clear I'm supposed to be catching on to what he is telling me, but- "OH MY GOD!"

He laughs loudly, because yeah, I just worked out what he meant. Call me slow.

My free hand immediately flies up to my mouth. I think a little of my dinner just revisited the back of my throat.

"Ewwwwwwwwww. Noooo!"

**({'})** _Damn… there goes that fantasy.*pout*_

"I warned you that you mightn't like what you hear."

"Okay, ignore what I said. From this day forwards, just lie to me. Oh my God, this is so embarrassing."

Edward is killing himself laughing, and even though I'm utterly mortified, I can't help laughing along with him. After a minute or two, we calm down and continue the drive in silence until he speaks again.

"So who do you think wears the cuffs?"

"Shut up, Edward."

He snickers.

"They were purple and furry."

"I said, shut up."

"I'll bet Sue is the one who gets to be the bad cop."

"Shut up."

"I wonder if he gets Sue to wear his-"

"For the love of all that is sacred and holy. Please stop or I swear I will take that sexy tie of yours, and I will gag you with it."

"So light bondage and kinky sex is a family trait with you Swans?" He smirks and waggles his eyebrows.

I let go of his hand and punch him on the arm. The car swerves slightly, and he quickly corrects his steering."

"_Ouch_. What was that for?" he complains exaggeratedly.

"You know why."

"Oh come on. I got you to laugh, didn't I? From the moment Charlie started interrogating me, and then they announced the pregnancy, you've barely cracked a smile. I quite like seeing you smile, Bella; you should do it more often."

He reaches over, grabs onto my hand again and interlaces our fingers. I then move our joined hands, so we are once again resting them on his thigh. Edward sighs in contentment.

After a minute or two, he starts up again.

"So… you think my tie is sexy, huh?" he says before giving me the patented panty-dropper smile and cocking his eyebrow suggestively.

And I laugh because I just can't help it. "Ugh… you are such a guy." With our combined hands, I push him playfully on his thigh.

"And just for the record, you'll have to pretend I didn't tell you about the sex cuffs. I kind of said I wouldn't mention anything about them so that Charlie would stop giving me a hard time about dating you," he says as he pulls the car into my driveway.

"Oh my God! I can't believe you managed to blackmail the Chief of Police!"

"Uh… yeah… I guess I did!" Edward says sheepishly.

And now I'm grinning from ear to ear. "That is _so_ cool."


	104. Chapter 104

We get out of the car, and Edward comes around to the passenger side to meet me. Holding hands, we walk to my front door.

"Do you want to come inside, so we can talk some more?" I ask.

**({'})** _And by talk, you mean have hot sex all night long, right?_

**({'}) **_PleaseSayYes. PleaseSayYes. PleaseSayYes._

He smiles. "I'd love to."

I'm nervous as I put my key in the lock, and I try to recall how tidy the living room was before I rushed out to catch the bus this morning. I open the door and breathe a sigh of relief. It doesn't look too bad. There's a basket of folded laundry sitting on the sofa, but apart from that, everything else is in its proper place. Being a Virgo has its upside.

**({'})** _The downside being that you are incredibly picky when it comes to men._

"Make yourself comfortable," I say, ushering him to sit down on the three-seater sofa. "I'll just move this out of the way." I pick up the basket of laundry and head toward my bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, I kick off my heels and change out of my work pants and gray turtle-neck sweater. I slip into a comfy pair of black, fold-over yoga pants and a soft, black t-shirt. Looking in the mirror, I'm thankful to see the marks on my neck are beginning to fade. Last night before bed, I remembered I had purchased some bruise relief cream after Alice, Jake, and I had gone to the Elma paintball range for one of their theme events. It was the vampires versus werewolves corn maze scenario, and our team got totally creamed. The next day, I was so covered in bruises that I'd looked like a Dalmatian.

On my return to the living room, I see Edward's suit jacket is draped over the arm of the sofa. He has taken off his tie, folded it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Next, he unbuttons the top two buttons of his business shirt, and then proceeds to unbutton his cuffs to roll up his shirt sleeves.

Libby is humming. This time, it's "The Stripper" by the David Rose Orchestra.

**({'})** _Woohoo!_ _Take it all off!_

"Would you like some coffee?" I ask.

"God, yes! I'm dying for one. I've been up since 5:00am, and I've only had two cups."

"Any particular reason you were up so early?" I ask as I head towards the kitchen to set up the coffee maker.

"When Milly decides she's awake, we _all_ have to be awake. She's just started climbing out of her crib, and this morning she crawled into my room and pulled herself up to stand next to my bedside table. She managed to tip my glass of water down the front of herself, and then she smacked me in the head with my TV remote until I woke up."

I start laughing as I imagine little Milly terrorizing him so violently first thing in the morning.

"Seriously, I can't wait until Rosie and Milly move into Emmett's house. Maybe I'll be able to sleep-in once in a while," he complains.

When I return to the living room, I take a seat next to him, and he immediately puts his arm around me. I curl my legs up onto the sofa and rest my head contentedly against his shoulder.

"This is nice," he says cuddling me close to him. "Just you and me."

"Back in the car, you said there were two reasons why you wanted to talk to my dad privately. What was the other reason?"

"I could see Charlie was embarrassing you with his behavior, and I didn't like it. His interrogation didn't bother me in the slightest, but I could see, just by looking at you that you were becoming upset. It was the main reason why I asked him to speak with me in private.

"When we got outside, Charlie said he '_knew_ _my type_,' and told me if I had plans to sleep with you, and then dump you soon after, or cheat on you, then I'd better think twice. He said if I hurt you, he'd find a way to put me in a cell so fast my head would spin. Charlie said he'd done it before, and he wouldn't hesitate to do it again."

"Wha- whoa, wait… what exactly are you saying?"

"He knows the truth about your ex."

As of yesterday, Edward was the only other person besides Alice, who knew the truth about Eric cheating on me with a man. Or so I'd thought. Clearly, I'd underestimated my dad.

"Charlie isn't stupid; he's a cop. He knew you weren't telling him the truth about why you and Eric broke up. He said even from a young age, you were a terrible liar – he knew you wanted kids."

Hearing Edward say he knows I want kids, makes me wonder if he still feels the same way as he did back when he was in the Army. I swallow hard because being in a serious, committed relationship and having kids is all I've ever wanted. I hope this revelation doesn't freak him out.

"Why didn't he tell me that he knew?"

"Charlie figured you had your reasons for lying. He admitted that your father-daughter relationship has been somewhat awkward since you _became a woman_. He said it was a lot easier to talk to you when you were little, but when you started to grow up, he had no clue how to deal with a moody and hormonal teenage girl."

I give him the scary bitch brow because no way was I ever hormonal or moody.

**({'})** _Much.._.

"Hey! I'm just telling you what he told me - in _his_ words. Don't shoot the messenger," he says defensively before continuing. "Anyway, a few months after you and Eric split, a police report came across Charlie's desk about an incident outside a gay bar, and Eric's name was mentioned. A few weeks later, he set up an undercover sting operation near the bar, and it seems Eric was arrested for prostitution solicitation. The officer used in the sting was male, and that's when Charlie knew, for a fact, you had lied about the breakup. He figured you were embarrassed, so he didn't say anything about it."

"So instead, he decided to take out his misguided paternal instincts on the next unfortunate guy to come into my life," I say feeling somewhat guilty for how my dad had behaved toward Edward.

"Don't worry about it. I told Charlie what he needed to hear."

"And what exactly did my dad _need to hear_ because I think I may need to hear it, too."

Edward places a finger beneath my chin and tilts my head. We are face-to-face with barely an inch of space between our lips.

"I told Charlie I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, and although I've just started dating you, I already care about you… so much." He gives me a quick kiss. "And then I gave back his sex cuffs."

He smirks, and I start giggling. "The look on his face must have been priceless."

"Yeah, it was hilarious. He blushed even redder than you do. You should have seen him. However, I promised him that I wouldn't tell you about the cuffs if he'd just give me a chance to prove I was nothing like your ex. Charlie agreed and then things became awkwardly quiet. I happened to notice the back of the boat he's restoring in his garage, so I changed the subject. Charlie got all excited when I started talking about boats and fishing. I guess you could say we bonded."

"So much so that he told you about getting married and knocking up his girlfriend," I say feeling annoyed.

"No. He didn't say anything specific. He mentioned the word fiancée when he decided to invite Sue and her family to dinner, so I just figured it was common knowledge. He said our visit would be a good opportunity to talk to Sue's kids, too. I had no idea what the announcement was. I just figured they were planning on moving in together or something," he says giving me a single shrug of his shoulders.

I can hear that the coffee maker has finished brewing, so I make a move to stand, but Edward pulls me back, so I am kneeling on the edge of the sofa, almost straddling him.

"Not so fast," he says wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me down so that I am, in fact, straddling his thighs. "I've been thinking of holding you like this all day."

He tilts his head up and kisses me. Once, and then twice. Two short, chaste kisses. I lean forward, and my hands travel from his shoulders, along his neck to the back of his head. His hair feels so silky-soft, and I run my fingers through it as I stare into his darkening eyes. We both move in for a third kiss. This time his tongue touches my bottom lip, and my own lips part, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His hands move from my waist down to my ass, caressing me before gently, pulling me closer, so we are pelvis to pelvis. We are making out on the sofa like a couple of teenagers, and that's when I notice something.

Edward's cock is hardening beneath me.

I moan, and my desire takes over. I want to feel more of him; I need friction. And so, I begin to rock my hips.

**({'}) **_Oh! Oh! El Capitán…_


	105. Chapter 105

I move my hips and grind my pussy against Edward's trouser clad erection. The deep groan that escapes his mouth is quite possibly the sexiest thing I've ever heard. We are kissing, and his hands are alternately caressing my ass and then pulling me tightly to him.

When we break for air, he pants raggedly. "Bella? Where is this going?"

He starts kissing my neck. In my lust-hazed fog, the only sound that falls from my lips is, "Huh?"

Murmuring into the skin of my neck between kisses, sucks and nibbles, he says, "Not that I'm complaining… because _this_ feels incredible," he thrusts up against me once more for emphasis, "but… I'm a guy… and I need to know… how far you… want me to go… before this gets… out of control and I… get too carried away."

I wind my fingers into the hair at the base of Edward's head, and I pull his face away from my neck. I feel his cock twitch and then become even harder under me.

**({'})** _Hmm… interesting. Seems as though Edward likes having his hair pulled. Good to know._

I rock my pussy over him again, reveling in the sensations he elicits in my body, and the shuddering exhalation of breath from Edward's chest. He looks so turned on with his swollen lips, dilated pupils and flushed cheeks.

Feeling brave and throwing all sense of propriety to the four winds, I move forward to bring my mouth close to his ear. "Maybe I want you to get carried away," I say in a breathy whisper before biting down gently on his earlobe.

In response, he shivers and then grips my hips tightly, bucking up against me once more.

I start kissing the skin along his jaw, making my way down and then up to his ear again to whisper, "And Edward… maybe I want you to fuck me."

Edward freezes and the world seems to come to an abrupt standstill.

**({'})** _Okay? What's the hold up, Edward? _

The expression on his face is indecipherable. I hope I haven't scared him off by being so forward.

**({'}) **_She was a speakin' in da English. Do you no comprende, hombre?_

All I can hear is the sound of my own thundering heartbeats as I wait for him to do or say something.

"Wha-? Are you sure?" he asks.

I nod and release his hair from my grasp so that I can pull my body back slightly to gauge his reaction. He smiles, but he still looks as though he can't believe what he's hearing. So to make certain he gets the message, I reach for the hem of my T-shirt, and I pull it up and over my head. Carelessly, I toss the shirt over my shoulder, leaving my bra covered breasts at his eye level. I give him what I hope is a sexy smile. Edward is staring up at me with an expression that can only be described as awe.

**({'})** _Actually… he's just staring at your tits._

He bites his lower lip, and then in the next moment, he expertly manages to flip me over, so I find myself lying on my back beneath him. His hips situated themselves between my thighs, and I automatically wrap my legs around his thighs to draw him in close to me.

Supporting his upper body on his forearms, he moves down and buries his face between my cleavage, and I hear him utter a muffled, "Mhmm… Heaven," which actually ends up sounding more like, "Mppphf… Hufflepuff."

I giggle at the humming sensation, and he lifts his smiling face to kiss me deeply again. My hands come up to cup his jaw as he reaches a hand down to grasp my waist. He begins to rhythmically move and thrust against me. The sensation of his tongue flicking and licking against my own, in time with his thrusts almost pushes me to the brink.

Breaking the kiss, I move my hands to his shirt buttons. "Must... come... off," I pant.

He nods enthusiastically and pulls back to kneel between my legs. Hurriedly, he begins to unbutton his shirt from the top, and I sit up to undo his buttons from the bottom. In a flash, his shirt is off, and it flies over the back of the sofa. When he arches back slightly to pull off his shoes, I move my hands to cover his pecs, and I marvel at the feeling of his muscles beneath my fingertips.

I want to taste his skin, so I kneel up and move in close to kiss his chest. Once. Twice. And then I flick my tongue out to swirl around one of his nipples. I do it again to the other nipple, but this time, I suck and then graze my teeth over the pebbling flesh. He moans deeply, and gently pushes me down to lie on the sofa again. He grabs for the waist of my yoga pants. He pulls them part of the way down my hips, and I lift my bottom to help him. He then grabs my pants from the ankles, and I frantically kick my legs to help him take them off.

Suddenly, my yoga pants are soaring through the air, landing God only knows where, but from the sound of it, I think they may have knocked over a small table lamp. There is a crash, but who in the hell cares!

It's moments like these (not that I've had many of them) I'm thankful Alice has impressed upon me the importance of matching underwear. That, and the fact my mom randomly sends me pretty lingerie from her workplace in Australia. Now I'm left wearing my smalls; a delicate satin and lace white bra and matching cheeky-cut panties.

Edward stares at me and utters a single, "Fuck," before diving down to caress the skin of my belly with his lips.

**({'})** _Me next! Me. Me… me me me me! Helloooo, Captain Edward? Here I am! _

**({'}) **_No. That's a hip bone. Down here! _

He is licking and nibbling at my skin, making me shiver with desire. His hands are firmly stroking the tops of my thighs.

**({'})** _This is no time to be a gentleman, officer!_

His mouth moves lower, and his lips skim past the waist of my panties.

**({'}) **_Lower… yes… lower… Oh!_


	106. Chapter 106

My hand reaches down to grasp the back of Edward's head, and I watch in anticipation and then moan when he licks my pussy over the satin fabric. I'm so wet right now; he can probably already taste me. His fingers curl under the hem at my waist, ready to move my panties down my hips. His eyes look up to meet mine as if to seek permission. I can't believe it's finally going to happen for me…, and for once, I don't even have to beg! He wants this. And I've waited ever so long.

"Yes." I gasp, and I buck my hips up to meet his mouth.

He smiles and places a languorous open-mouthed kiss on my mound, causing me to moan and squirm beneath him impatiently.

"Don't tease me," I whine pathetically.

He starts to laugh darkly, and it's the dirtiest and sexiest sound.

Then I start giggling. "You're mean."

He knows he has me on the edge of insanity; he just doesn't know why. His head dips down lower. And suddenly, I can hear music.

Is that you, Libby?

**({'}) **_Um… no?_

"Edward?" I whisper. I have no idea why I'm whispering.

He doesn't answer me as he's blissfully preoccupied. His eyes are closed and he's running his nose and then his tongue along my inner left groin, following along the lace edge of my panties.

"Edward!" I say a bit louder.

Suddenly, his face looks up.

"Is that your phone?" I ask.

He turns to look at his jacket accusingly. The White Stripes song starts playing over once again. "It's just Rosie. Ignore her and she'll go away." He looks at me again and gives me the patented panty-dropper smile. "Now… where was I before I was rudely interrupted?"

His mouth makes contact with my inner right thigh, just above my knee, and heading towards my pussy once again, he begins a slow ascent with more open-mouthed kisses and licks. He is driving me crazy. So much so, I'm betting the second that his lips or tongue actually manage to touch my bare clit, I'll come undone immediately.

This time the sound of wailing electric guitars, drum beats and scratch music invade our bubble.

**_Yeah… _**  
><strong><em>You can't front on that.<br>So what so what so whatcha want?  
>(So what you want?)<br>So what so what so whatcha want?  
>(So what you want?)<em>**

Normally, I'm a fan of The Beastie Boys, but right now I just wish they'd shut the hell up because I already know what I want. I want Edward's mouth on my bare pussy!

Edward raises his head again, and his lips are pursed in mid-pucker before he frowns in annoyance.

**({'}) **_You've got to be fucking kidding me!_

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says in exasperation as he drops the side of his face to rest on my thigh.

"Who is it this time?" I ask as I run my fingers through his hair.

"It's Carlisle. And he never rings me without a good reason." He straightens up and then reaches behind him to remove the phone from his jacket pocket. Still kneeling between my thighs, he answers the call. "Carlisle?" Edward's expression changes from one of concern back to anger. "Rosie! What are you doing calling me on Carlisle's phone?" he says through gritted teeth. There is a pause as he listens and his expression changes back to one of annoyance. "Just hang on a sec, will you?"

He presses a button. With his phone pressed to his forehead, he screws his eyes shut and then tilts his head down. "Shit, fuck, bugger, fuck, damn, shit, arse, bollocks, fuck, fucker." He presses a button again. Calmly, he puts the phone back to his ear, but then his tone becomes incredulous. "No way! I do _not_ owe the swear jar $100. I thought my phone was on mute. And anyway, it only counts if Milly is in the room… and four of those words weren't curses!"

He listens once more. "Why is she still awake then, and why do you have me on speaker?" More listening. "Look… just put Carlisle on the bloody phone, will you… and bloody doesn't count as a curse word either, by the way." There's a pause. "Carlisle, I swear you better be dying of the Spanish flu, or I am going to be really pissed off."

Their conversation continues, and it becomes clear to me that playtime is over. I roll off the couch and then stand, but as I move to retrieve my yoga pants that are sitting on top of my broken lamp, Edward grabs me around the waist with his free arm, and then he nuzzles the side of his face into my belly. His eyes close in contentment as I wrap my arms around his neck to hold him against my body. He releases a heavy sigh and says goodbye to Carlisle before tossing the phone onto the sofa.

"So, you have to go…" I say resignedly as I run my fingers through his hair.

"Yeah. Duty calls. Carlisle is quite sick. He sounded like shit. He was meant to be flying some big-shot reclusive director and an aerial cinematographer over several sites in Seattle as they are doing a movie in the area. The movie involves some night shoots, so while the weather is favorable, they need to gather a few hours of footage while their night filming permit is still valid."

I look at the clock and see it is nearly 8.30pm. "You've been up since five this morning. Are you sure you're going to be okay; flying for so long?"

"Don't worry about me. Being in the Army means I'm used to this kind of thing; long hours with not much sleep. I'll live. Just get some coffee into me, and I'll be right."

I bend down to cup his face, and I kiss him deeply. "One coffee coming right up, Captain."

I turn around and bend over to pick up my t-shirt from the top of the coffee table, and I smirk when I hear him whimper. He smacks me once on the ass for teasing him. I pretend to act indignantly about being accused of flaunting my ass, but of course, it was the exact reaction I was hoping for. I retrieve Edward's shirt from behind the sofa, and we watch each other as we get dressed. When he gets down and kneels on all fours to look for his missing shoe beneath the sofa, I smack him on the ass. He yelps in surprise, and laughing, I sprint into the kitchen.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Rosie's ringtone – We're Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes.**

**Carlisle's ringtone – Wat'cha Want? by The Beastie Boys.**


	107. Chapter 107

On opening my kitchen cabinets, I search for two things; a stem vase for my rose and a travel mug for Edward. I retrieve Edward's rose from my handbag, and then I fill the vase with water. Taking a moment to admire the rose, I set the vase in the middle of my dining room table. Finding my favorite travel mug in the dishwasher, I grab a dish towel to wipe off the left-over condensation. The travel mug was a gift from Alice when I graduated with my Master's Degree. It is white ceramic, and in colorful lettering, it says,

**Top 10 Reasons to Date a Speech Pathologist:**

10. We'll prove that doing it slow makes it smoother.  
>9. We can make you scream in all the right ways.<br>8. We have a way with words.  
>7. We'll teach you how to make the "OH" face.<br>6. We know how to get your strongest muscle up.  
>5. We know the value of frequency.<br>4. We love intensity.  
>3. We know how to swallow.<br>2. We know it's all about tongue placement.  
>1. We do it orally!<p>

Just as I'm adding some cream to his coffee, Edward comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He then kisses me on the back of my neck. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Don't be. It can't be helped. I know how important your business is to your family. You're still establishing yourselves, so you need this opportunity," I say as I turn and present him with his coffee-to-go.

He takes the mug from my hand and begins to read the writing. I smirk as I watch his grin widen. "Next time, you're going to show me everything on this list, okay?" he says pointing to the mug.

"Hmmph. Who says there will be a next time? I'm sorry, but this was a one-time offer. You blew it, buddy," I say putting a serious expression on my face.

"Oh, yeah?" His eyebrows are raised up in challenge.

"Yeah."

"Okay, well see ya, sweetheart. It's been nice knowin' ya. I'll just post this mug back to you in the morning, shall I?"

He turns and makes a move toward the door, but I stop him from walking away by grabbing him by the back of his belt.

"Not so fast, Mr. Cullen. You'll need to pay for that coffee first."

Turning around, he places the mug down on the kitchen draining board. He makes a show of patting down his pockets to look for his wallet, but comes up empty. "Hmm. How ever shall I repay you, Miss Swan?" he asks seductively.

I wiggle my eyebrows at him and bite my bottom lip to suppress my smile. He slides his hands around my waist. Effortlessly, he lifts me up so that I'm sitting on the end of the kitchen counter. When Edward stands between my dangling legs, I fold my arms around his neck. He then wraps his arms around me, and he rests his face into the crook of my neck. He sighs forlornly.

"Here's a hint… you can start by giving me a goodbye kiss… on the lips," I suggest.

He turns his face to look at me and kisses me chastely.

"Oh, you'll have to do much better than that," I admonish.

He chuckles and then gives me another kiss; this time the kiss is slightly longer lasting, but it's still rated PG-13.

I huff in annoyance, and then push him away from me. He staggers backwards a few steps.

Lifting the hem of my t-shirt, I quickly flash him my boobs and say, "If you ever want to see these again, I suggest you kiss me like you really mean it."

Edward's eyes darken, and he quickly moves in close to me. Grabbing my ass, he pulls me roughly to the edge of the counter, and then picking up my lower legs, he wraps them around his waist. His hands reach up and cup my face. His kiss is soft and gentle at first, but with a sudden upsurge of passion, he deepens it, and our tongues swirl and dance. In the next instant, I find I'm lying on the kitchen counter, and he's crawling over me. Alternately, he places open-mouthed kisses and sucks on my neck.

Once again, his hips are resting between my thighs, and I bring my knees up, so my feet are resting on the edge of the counter. He's hard again, and I push my hands down on his ass to persuade him to move against me. He willingly obliges, and I lift my pelvis up to meet him. Supporting his upper body on one forearm, his hand reaches underneath my t-shirt to palm and squeeze my breast. I moan at the delicious sensations.

I can't believe we are dry-humping on my kitchen counter. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before outside of a bedroom. I'm unbelievably horny, and my fingernails dig into the muscles of his ass to press him closer to my body.

**_Yeah… _**  
><strong><em>You can't front on that.<br>So what so what so whatcha want?  
>(So what you want?)<br>So what so what so whatcha want?_**

Edward moans, but it's not a "_Oh God, I'm so horny_" moan. He stops moving and then collapses in defeat on top of me. "It's not fair," he whines into the side of my cleavage.

I kiss the top of his head, and then I reach behind me. I grasp the travel mug and bring it to his eye level. "You better go now before you're reported as missing-in-action."

He stands and then adjusts his still-hard cock within the confines of his trousers. "I was quite happy with the action I was about to get from you." He pouts. "Now the only action I'll see is when the director yells, '_Action_,' when filming is about to start."

I pass him the coffee mug and hop down from the counter. Moving out to the living room, Edward grabs his suit jacket and answers the phone. He promises Carlisle that he's on his way and won't be late as he heads for the front door. I follow him out to his car, and as soon as he gets in and closes the door, he lowers the window. The night sky is clear, and the air has chilled. It makes me shiver.

"Go back inside, beautiful. It's too cold to be out here without a sweater, and I don't want you to get sick before Friday night."

"Friday night? What's happening Friday night?"

"I'm taking you on a proper date. It will be just you and me, and I promise you, there will be absolutely no interruptions."

"I'll hold you to that promise."

"I'd rather you held me to you, but it seems it's not to be, right now. I'd best be off. Come here." I move closer to the car window, and he angles his head to kiss me. "This job is probably going to take up most of my time for the next few nights, so I'll be sleeping during the day. Can I call you when I wake up?"

"Of course you can. Call me anytime… or text me. Sky-writing works, too. Whatever."

He smiles and gives me another quick kiss. "Go inside and get warmed up, please. I'll speak to you tomorrow night before I go to work. Okay?"

I nod and step away from the car. He starts the engine and backs out of the driveway. I wave goodbye and then head indoors.

As soon as I close the front door, Libby starts bitching at me.

**({'})** _Ugh… Un-fucking-believable! We were so close_.

"Yeah… close, but no cigar."

**({'}) **_Speaking of cigars… did you ever wonder what Bill Clinton was smoking when he, "Wasn't having sexual relations" with Monica Lewinski?_

"Err… no! Ew."

**({'}) **_Yeah… um… me neither._

"Sometimes I really worry about you, Libby," I say as I walk into my bedroom and flip the switch on the bedside lamp.

**({'}) **_I worry about me, too. *sigh*_

**({'})**_ What's the Libby equivalent of blue balls? _

I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. "I dunno… blue bean, I suppose? Why?"

**({'}) '**_Cause I think I'm about to die from it._

"Yeah… I think you might be right."

I roll over onto my stomach and then I scream into my pillow.

**({'}) **_Feel better now?_

"No."

**({'}) **_Yeah, me neither. _

"Do you want me to go back to the living room and find B.O.B?"

**({'}) **_Believe it or not, I really want my next 'O' to be courtesy of Edward. _

**({'}) **_Can you just hold me, please?_

"Okay."

I roll to my side and cup my pussy with my hand until the ache subsides. I close my eyes and try not to think of Edward or how much I miss him.

It doesn't work.

The next time my eyes open, it's morning, and I'm still lying on my bed, fully clothed with my hand clasped firmly between my legs.


	108. Chapter 108

_**Tuesday… 19th June 10:40am**_

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

Looking down at my pager, I note it's a summons from the receptionist in the Allied Health Department. The second I push through the glass doors of the outpatient clinic, I make my way around the front desk to respond to her page. I don't care that I'm already running late; I'm on a mission.

"Where in the hell have you been? Clinic started ten minutes ago," Nettie complains.

Ignoring her, I pick up the phone and frantically punch in the numbers on the hand piece.

"Allied Health Department, this is Maggie speaking. How may I help you?" she answers.

"Mags… It's Bella," I say slightly out of breath.

"Bella! You've got another delivery, hon."

"Is Edward there?" I ask, trying to control the excitement in my voice.

"No. You just got some flowers. They look as though they were ordered from one of the local florists."

"Flowers? You mean there's more than one this time?"

"Yep. This time he sent you a bouquet with seven orange roses."

"Seven roses? That's an odd number to send. Do you know if it signifies something in particular?"

"Absolutely! Sending seven roses is a way to say, '_I'm infatuated with you_,' and orange roses represent passionate desire, enthusiasm, captivation and fascination," Maggie explains. "Your Edward sure knows how to woo a girl."

_My Edward…_

My heart melts, and I sigh.

There is a hand waving in front of my face. It's the receptionist of the clinic, and she looks less than amused. She's miming for me to '_get off the fucking phone_' while mouthing those exact words at me.

Then Nettie speaks up while snapping her fingers in front of my eyes causing me to blink several times. "Hellooooo? Earth to Bella… are you going to do some work or are you just going to stand there for the rest of the morning, while holding onto the phone and staring into space with a dopey look on your face?"

I quickly snap out of my Edward induced stupor and speak in a rush. "Thanks for letting me know, Maggie. I'll come and see them after clinic. Can you please put them in water for me?"

"No need. They came in their own vase; it's beautiful. There's also a note in an envelope. Do you want me to read it to you?"

"Hell no!" I yell into the phone, and suddenly everyone in the waiting room turns to stare at me. "I mean, no, thank you," I respond more sedately, "I'll read it later."

Hanging up the phone, I then go about the rest of my morning with a smile on my face.

-oo0oo-

_**12.00pm**_

Walking into our shared office, I find both Nettie and Tia standing next to my desk admiring the bouquet of flowers that are sitting in a beautiful vase. Among the rich orange rose blooms there are sprays of white baby's breath.

"Looks as though you've got an admirer," Tia says cocking an eyebrow.

I nod and smile.

"Anyone we'd know?" she asks.

"No, you wouldn't know him. He's my um… new boyfriend, Edward."

Tia and Nettie beam at me excitedly as I pick up the beautiful vase to inhale the scent of the roses.

Nettie then asks, "Aren't you going to read the card?"

Attached to the vase by a white ribbon is a small, sealed envelope.

I set the vase down and eagerly open the envelope.

Silently, I read the enclosed hand-written note.

_**Top 10 reasons to date an (ex) soldier:**_

_**10. We can get into tight places and won't get lost in the dark.**_**_  
><strong>9. We make sure our equipment is in perfect working condition.<strong>  
><strong>8. We always wear protection.<strong>  
><strong>7. We'll stand at attention when told, and we know how to follow orders.<strong>  
><strong>6. We can fire off thousands of rounds without getting tired.<strong>  
><strong>5. We are quick to reload.<strong>  
><strong>4. We have a quick finger action.<strong>  
><strong>3. We like hummers more than most people.<strong>  
><strong>2. We are skilled at night maneuvers and deep insertion ops.<strong>  
><strong>1. We aren't afraid to get down and dirty.<strong>_**

_**E – xx**_

_**P.S. I'll call you tonight.**_

_**P.P.S. Don't assume I'll return your travel mug to you any time soon. Every time I look at it, it makes me smile because it reminds me of you. **_

_**P.P.P.S. I hope my note above didn't offend you in any way. And by that, I mean the fact that I'm kidnapping your mug – not points 1 to 10. **_

_**P.P.P.P.S. Are you still reading this? **_

_**P.P.P.P.S. Bored yet?**_

I giggle at his silliness and then turn the card over.

_**P.P.P.P.P.S. Nope. Nothing to see here either. Get back to work! xx**_

I burst out laughing and decide that sometime tonight I'll need to phone Alice and ask where she got my travel mug from, so I can buy Edward one of his own.

"Well, read the card out to us, Bella," Tia encourages as they both head back to their desks to sit down for lunch.

I blush and reply, "No way," and I quickly tuck the card back into the envelope.

"It must be really naughty then," Nettie says, looking highly amused at my flushed appearance.

"You have no idea," I reply, and I bite down on my bottom lip to hide my smirk.

Just as I'm about to start eating my apple, Doctor Gerandy knocks on the door to our office.

"Good afternoon, ladies. I hope I'm not intruding on your lunch break, but I need to ask if one of you would be interested in presenting at an international conference." The three of us stop eating and turn our full attention to him. "I've just received an email from the Speech Pathology Council of Australia. They've sent out an open invitation for any interested international guest speakers to present at their four-day conference in mid-December. I was hoping I could get one of you ladies to present our joint paper on our Multi-disciplinary team approach to managing stroke patients and the role of the Speech Pathologist," he says. Your flights and accommodation would be paid for by the conference organizers, and there are meals and activities included.

"I'm sorry, but I can't go," Nettie says apologetically. "I already rely on my mom too much to help me with my four boys since my ex-husband left. If I went away for a conference and left her with the kids, she'd kill me."

"Well, that paper was mainly written by Bella, so personally, I'm thinking that she should be the one to present it," Tia says. "Besides, I'm already presenting a paper at the Auditory Processing Disorders conference in Hong Kong next January."

"Where exactly in Australia is the conference?" I ask.

"Sydney." I take about a second to think about it. I've never been out of the U.S., and with my mom living in Sydney, it would give me an opportunity to catch up with her in person. It's been well over five years since I've seen Renee, and the offer of having someone else paying for my airfares and accommodation is too good to pass up. "Yeah. Sure. I'd love to."

I guess I'll finally get myself a passport.


	109. Chapter 109

_**Thursday evening - 21st June 6:00pm**_

"Pleeeeeease, tell me," I whine pathetically as I single-handedly battle to push my shopping cart while holding onto my phone. I always seem to end up with the stupid cart that has four uncooperative wheels.

Edward's sexy laugh teases me through the phone. "No, it will ruin the surprise."

"I should warn you; I don't like surprises."

**({'})** _Liar, liar…_

"Bella… I promise you will like this one."

"You know I'm still upset that you didn't tell me it was your birthday yesterday."

"I'm sorry, but I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Plus, I was working anyway..."

"You can make it up to me by telling me where we're going."

"My lips are sealed."

I've been begging Edward during his nightly phone calls to tell me what he has planned for Friday evening, but he's steadfastly refusing to indulge my curiosity.

I stop in front of the cooking needs section to search the shelves for bittersweet chocolate. "Well, give me just one clue. Otherwise, how will I know what to wear? I _will_ need to wear clothes tomorrow night, won't I?" I ask suggestively. The old biddy next to me gives me a disdainful look. I poke my tongue at her as she turns away from me.

**({'}) **_We're allowed to flirt with our boyfriend on the phone if we want to, you nosey old cow._

"As much as I would like to see you in _your_ birthday suit, I will say that you'll need to wear some clothes."

**({'})** _Damn!_

"That's not a helpful clue at all. Should I dress up, or casual? Do I need to wear pants or a dress?"

**({'})** _Or lingerie? Ask him about lingerie! Or should I go commando?_

Shut up, Libby. I can't concentrate.

"Maybe both..."

"Both?"

"That's what I said."

"Edward, that doesn't make any sense."

"It will."

"Arrrrrgh! You are infuriating."

Edward laughs again. "Let's just say it's all been taken care of, and you don't need to worry about anything."

An announcement comes over the loudspeaker.

"_Price check on register two_." The male voice then continues, "_Price check on… 36 pack of Tampax Pearl Tampons; unscented with plastic applicators in size… err… super plus._"

Everybody in the vicinity of register number two turns to stare. Immediately, the women give the poor mortified customer, who is standing at the counter, a shared look of sympathy while simultaneously fantasizing about beating the living shit out of the insensitive check-out guy who just made the announcement over the speaker system to the entire store.

"Where are you?" Edward asks. "Are you at Walgreens buying extra-large condoms again?" Edward snickers and I know he is thinking about our phone conversation from the other night.

We had been talking about my dad getting married, and that had led to the topic of Leah and Seth becoming my step-siblings. Stupidly, I had mentioned to Edward how I had first come to meet Leah. I also confessed to why I had been going commando at Walgreens on the fateful night that I had accidentally mooned him in the parking lot.

Edward laughed so hard he'd ended up having a coughing fit and spilling coffee on his shirt.

I couldn't blame him though. In hindsight, even I could laugh at my misfortune. However, I didn't tell him about the homemade fudgesicle-condom ice-pack.

I was going to take that little secret to the grave.

"Ha-ha. Very funny. For your information, I'm at the grocery store. I'm buying ingredients for the chocolate cake I'll need to make on Saturday morning. I promised to make one for Emmett's 'welcome home' lunch at your mom's house, remember?"

"Shit," Edward says quietly under his breath so that I almost don't catch it. "How long will that take to make?"

"A few hours. Why?"

There is a pause on the other end of the line. I then hear the sound of screeching tires and the car engine revving up again.

"Umm… nothing. Just a slight change of plans.

"Edward…" I say in a warning tone as I reach up to grab a packet of Dutch processed cocoa powder from the shelf. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Just trust me… okay?"

"Okay."

"I gotta go, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, beautiful."

"Bye, Edward."

-oo0oo-

_**Friday afternoon - 22nd June 4:00pm**_

As I step through the automatic doors of the main entrance to the hospital, I hear the annoying sound of a honking car horn. Looking up, I see Alice's canary yellow Porsche Boxster parked in a no-standing zone. She's waving at me frantically.

I'm confused and worried as to why she's here, so I hurry over towards Alice's car to see what she wants.

"What are you doing here?"

"Get in!" she orders.

"Why? What's going on?"

"I'm taking you home. I have to help you."

"Help me do what?"

"Get ready for Edward, silly."

-oo0oo-

_**Fifteen heart-pounding minutes later…**_

**({'}) **_Never again, Bella. NEVER. AGAIN!_

After a white-knuckle, butt-clenching drive, I stagger out of the passenger seat on wobbly legs and walk toward my front door. I make a solemn vow to get off my ass and start looking for a new car next week so that I won't have to catch the bus to and from work anymore… or accept rides from Alice '_get-off-the-goddamn-sidewalk-I'm-driving-here_' Brandon.

Sadly, my decrepit truck is going to be put out of its misery and sold off for parts. The mechanic at the garage, where I had arranged to have my truck towed to, had informed me on Wednesday that the problem with the distributor was only the tip of the iceberg. Apparently, I'll need to spend over three-thousand dollars for the repairs to keep my truck roadworthy and reliable. It's not worth it to keep the old gas-guzzling beast on the road anymore. I guess it's time to move on to something more reliable and practical.

"So do you know where Edward is taking me tonight?" I ask as I put my key in the lock of the front door.

"I know everything."

"And?"

"I'm not supposed to tell."

I roll my eyes at her and push the front door open. Alice barges past me and heads in the direction of my bedroom, but before I can follow her into the room, she slams the door and clicks the lock.

"Alice?" I rap my knuckles on the door. "Alice! Let me in."

"Go have a shower. You can't go out with Edward smelling like sick people, hospital food and condoms!" she yells back at me through the door.

"How many times do I have to tell you? The smell is from the powder inside the latex gloves I have to wear – not condoms, you smart ass."

"Sure, sure… whatever you say… hooker," she replies laughing.

I can hear the sound of drawers being opened and closed.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Just looking for your toys."

"Alice!" I screech and knock frantically on my door again.

"I'm just kidding." She giggles. "Look, you'll see soon enough. Now go and shower, Miss Stinky."

-oo0oo-

After showering and blow-drying my hair, I make my way down the hallway wrapped in only a towel. On entering my bedroom, I see Alice has set out some clothes on the bed. I see my faded blue denim jeans, a plain black T-shirt, a lightweight black jacket and sandals. It is an extremely casual and comfortable outfit.

But then I spy the underwear. It's the matching red and black Valkyrie bra and panties. They are the very same Playboy brand lingerie set that Edward chased Jazz around the parking lot of the aquatic center for. For some reason, it feels as though months have passed since that day. In reality, it was barely two weeks ago.

"Alice?" I yell.

"What?" I hear her voice call out from the vicinity of my kitchen. I then hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

Just as I turn to search for her, I notice a garment bag hanging from the hook on the back of the bedroom door and my small travel bag sitting on the floor. Moving over to the garment bag, I unzip it and gasp at what is revealed. Inside the bag is the prettiest sundress I have ever seen.

Alice walks in and scowls at me. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"Where did you get this dress? It's gorgeous!"

I pull the dress out of the garment bag to appreciate it fully. Walking back to stand in front of my mirror, I hold the dress in front of my towel-clad body. The dress looks as though the bottom hem will fall to just above my knees. It is white, and the bust of the dress is heavily embellished in a red poppy flower print. With its thin shoulder straps and mid-center v-cut, my cleavage will be prominently displayed. From the bust line, the dress falls from a stretchy empire waistline into a flowing skirt, and the poppy print climbs up from the bottom hem with only a few tall poppy flowers reaching the bust line. The dress is so soft and feminine.

"I made it for you."

I stare at her in amazement and then look back at my reflection in the mirror. Alice has occasionally dabbled in sewing as a hobby, but that's only been simple things such as pillow-slips and cushion covers. "But how-"

"One of the boys I coach at the aquatic center, well… his mom couldn't afford to keep paying for his swimming tuition, so he was going to quit. He has a lot of talent for a kid his age, so I just couldn't stand to see him give up due to a lack of money. I found out his mom used to work as a seamstress, so I told her that I wanted to learn how to design and sew dresses because I find it so hard to buy things I like in my size. For the past eight months, she's been giving me lessons once a week in exchange for coaching her son," she explains.

She then moves to stand next to me and speaks to my reflection in the mirror. "I made this dress with the intention of giving it to you for your birthday, but Edward told me about how you are going to have lunch with his family tomorrow, so I decided you should have it now. I've packed a strapless bra for you to wear with it," she says gesturing to the travel bag next to the door.

"When did Edward tell you about lunch? And why would I need to pack for tomorrow?"

She cocks an eyebrow.

**({'})** _Woohoo! Sleep-over!_

"There's a portable cooler in the kitchen that you'll need to take with you, too. If my memory serves me correctly, I think I've got all the ingredients in there. I put your cake tins and measuring cups in there as well, just in case..."

Obviously, I won't be coming back to my place tonight or cooking a chocolate cake in my own kitchen in the morning. And suddenly I realize she has been working with Edward behind the scenes to organize more than just one night.

"How many changes of clothing are in the bag?"

"A couple," she says enigmatically.

"Will I be spending the weekend on Edward's boat?" I ask excitedly.

"I'm not saying anything else," she says defensively as she takes the dress from me and walks over to put it back into the garment bag.

I walk over to Alice and give her a hug. "Thank you, Ali. Thank you for the dress and for helping Edward plan out… whatever it is he has organized."

"Don't thank me too much," she says pulling back from our embrace with a smirk. "I had my own selfish motives." She wiggles her eyebrows as if I should know her reasons for helping out. "Jazzy."

"Is Jazz back in town this weekend?"

Alice nods excitedly, squeals, and hugs me again. Then she starts jumping up and down before realizing I'm still only wearing a bath towel.

**({'})** _I think someone else is hoping to get some this weekend._

"Bella, hurry up and get dressed." She looks at her watch. "He'll be here in a minute - get a move on!"

I turn to look at the clothes arranged on my bed. "So I take it that I'm supposed to wear these clothes right now." She nods. "Will I be wearing these clothes all night or will I need to change into something else when we arrive at our destination?"

"I guess that all depends…" She smirks.

I pick up my red and black lingerie set, and I cock a questioning eyebrow at her. "What about this then? Was this your idea, or was it a request from Edward?"

"I'll just leave that up to you to work out. I'm not saying anything more." She giggles and then turns to dash out of the room.

Just as I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, putting on my sandals, I hear the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway.

Alice yells from the living room, "It's tiiiiiiime!"


	110. Chapter 110

As I bolt from my bedroom to the bathroom to grab my toothbrush, I hear Edward come to the front door. "Hey, Alice. Is she ready?" he asks.

"Almost. She'll be out in a sec. Come in. Oh, wow… such pretty flowers. Bella will just love them."

"They're for you, actually."

Huh?

**({'})** _What the fuck!_

"For me? Really?" Alice gushes.

**({'})** _Grrrrrr._

"It's to thank you for all you've done to help me. Especially with the last-minute changes."

"Awww. You didn't have to do that. But thank you anyway. They're lovely."

As I round the corner, carrying my bags, I see the two of them standing in the living room. Alice is holding onto a bouquet of deep-pink roses, and they are hugging. When she sees me, she releases him from her embrace.

**({'})** _Grrrrrr._

"Look, Bella. These roses, aren't they beautiful?" she says thrusting them toward me.

**({'})** _Grrrrrr._

Mentally, I count the number of roses. _I wonder what that means?_

**({'})** _Google it!_

"Yes they are… they're lovely," I say, and I look at him and smile weakly.

I pray my jealousy doesn't show.

**({'})** _Grrrrrr._

"So do you have everything?" he asks.

"I think so," I reply with some uncertainty.

"There is a cooler box sitting on the counter top in the kitchen that will need to go with you," she says looking at Edward.

"Okay. Well, I'll just grab these…" he says, relieving me of my garment and travel bags, "and I'll take them out to the car. I'll come back for the cooler in a sec." Edward turns and walks out the front door.

Alice embraces me in a warm hug. "Have fun this weekend. I can't wait to hear how it all goes." The pink roses are now just inches from my face.

**({'})** _Grrrrrr._

Knock it off, Libby! Alice is my best friend. She'd never do anything to hurt me.

I return the hug. She releases me just as Edward walks through the door and heads for the kitchen.

"Bye, Bella," she says in a sing-song voice while giving me a bright smile. "Bye, Edward."

"See ya, Alice," he says, carrying the cooler out of the kitchen and heading for the front door. Over his shoulder, he calls out, "And thanks again."

"No problem," she replies as I turn and grab my handbag and keys.

We follow Edward and walk out of the house. I lock the door behind us.

"I'll see you Sunday morning. Thanks for everything, Ali… especially the dress."

She just giggles and then gives me an enigmatic smile before running over to her car.

**({'})** _What's so funny?_

I walk over to the Volvo where he's waiting for me. He opens the passenger door wide and ushers me into the car.

As I cast my gaze to the passenger seat, I see a bouquet of roses.

I turn to look at him, and I'm confronted by his amused smile.

"Don't deny it. I saw that look on your face. You thought I only bought flowers for Alice."

I blush because it's patently obvious I didn't hide my jealousy very well. "Yeah… well…"

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "You're adorable."

"Teaser," I reply as I pick up the roses and get into the passenger seat.

He laughs and then leans in to kiss me again before closing the car door.

As he walks around to the driver's side, I stare down at the bouquet.

Ten burgundy roses.

-oo0oo-

**_Friday evening - 6:00pm_**

I give up. I have no freakin' idea of where we are or where we're going.

At first, I had thought we were going to spend the weekend on Edward's boat.

After leaving my house, he drove us to the marina where his boat is moored; however, I was instructed to remain in the car. After a few minutes, he reappeared carrying a travel case of his own. And then we left the marina.

Then, I had thought we were going to get into a helicopter, and I got excited by the prospect of Edward flying me somewhere mysterious, but as it turned out, he just needed to get some keys from Carlisle.

Carlisle embraced me in greeting and said he looked forward to speaking more with me at lunch tomorrow. And then we left the heliport.

Our next stop was The Brotherhood Lounge. Once again, I thought perhaps we would be spending part of the night there. A little dinner and some wine… slow dancing.

At least I was correct on one point.

Once inside The Broho, Edward gave his mom a set of keys (presumably the same ones Carlisle had given him) and then Esme handed him a cooler box and passed two bottles of wine to me. Esme, too, embraced me warmly and then mentioned she eagerly looked forward to helping me make my chocolate cake in the morning. And then we left the club.

So I had thought it made perfect sense when he drove to his mom's house in Boston Harbor. It somehow seemed logical to me that we would be spending the night there, and I would make chocolate cake with Esme in the morning.

Wrong again. I was told to wait in the car.

Edward grabbed my garment bag and the cooler with the cake making supplies, and he took them inside. As I waited in the car, Rosalie came to stand next to my window to say, "Hi."

While holding a wiggling Milly on her hip, she mentioned Emmett had come home from the hospital around lunch time, but he was taking a nap. Apparently, they'll be moving back into Emmett's house by the end of next week.

I had remembered Edward mentioned how Rosalie, in early pregnancy, couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it. So I asked if she knew what Edward had planned for tonight.

It appears that I was a day late. Hallelujah! Miracle of miracles! Rosalie, it seems, is back to her old self – much to the relief of everyone, except me – because I was none the wiser about our date. Then, much to my chagrin, I was blindfolded.

I heard a lot of noises going on as various items were loaded into the back of the car. And then we left the house.

So now I find myself sitting in the passenger seat, blind-folded by Edward's sexy tie, wondering where the fuck I am and who he's talking to. All I know, is that we drove onto an unsealed road, and a car pulled up beside us. Edward then lowered the window.

He's talking and laughing with another man. They are speaking in a different language – in Italian; I think…

As their conversation ends, I hear the voice of a woman. "Ciao, Edward."

"Ciao," he replies, and then he drives on.

Finally, the car stops. "Are we there yet?" I ask jokingly, "because if I have to be driven about blindfolded for much longer, I think I'm gonna hurl."

He laughs. "You can take off the blindfold. We're here."

I hear the sound of the car door opening. Lifting the edge of the tie, I take a look at my surroundings. We are parked near a body of water which I presume is a part of Puget Sound. A few feet from the shore, there is a fire pit filled with glowing hot coals. Between a couple of trees, someone has strung up a large, colorful double-hammock.

I turn my head to the other side. Standing there is an imposing, wood-clad, two-story house surrounded by a large, well-maintained lawn. The rear of the house, which is dominated by three rows of tall, geometric windows, faces the Sound, while the front of the house faces acres of open timber land. It's beautiful here.

"Where exactly are we?" I ask as I get out of the car.

"Gallagher Cove. It's a cove just off Totten Inlet."

"Who does this property belong to?" I look around again and note how secluded this place seems to be.

"You know that director I've been working with all week; the reclusive one?" I nod in understanding. "Well, this is his place. He's said we are welcome to stay in the house, or we can camp out here on the lawn under the stars. He mentioned there's a six-man tent in the garage we can use, but I thought we'd just park the car near the shore. We can lay the two rows of rear seats down in the car and sleep in there."

**({'})** _Or have sex._

"Oh… I love the outdoors," I say enthusiastically as I walk with him to the rear of the car, "I used to go camping and fishing with my dad a lot when I was younger."

"Yeah, I know. Alice told me, so that's how I knew you'd probably like it here." He opens the tailgate of the car. "After dinner, we can go for a walk, or watch a DVD. He points to the ceiling of the car, and I can see there is an inbuilt, fold-down video screen. "Or else we can dance on the shore near the fire to some music on the radio."

**({'})** _Or have sex._

So it's to be dinner, wine, and dancing, along with a romantic moonlit walk on the shore, an open fire and a modern-day version of a drive-in movie.

Edward will ruin me for any other man who ever tries to take me on a first date.

**({'})** _With any luck, this will hopefully be your last first-date ever._

"So… what's the name of the director anyway? Would I know any of his films?"

He starts to chuckle, and I look at him curiously as he passes me a picnic blanket and bottles of wine. "I'm not sure if you'd know any of his work as he previously only did foreign language films, but you would know _him_ if you saw him. He's a big fan of yours, which is why he says you are welcome to come to this place any time you want."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"This property belongs to Aro Volturi… I believe you teach his daughter, Jane, in the Waterbabes class."

He laughs when my jaw drops.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – **(remove bracket for link) **Aro's property - (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/vlM9U9  
><strong>

**Alice's bouquet - 14 roses = no significance. Deep pink roses signify appreciation/ gratitude/ thank you.**

**Bella's bouquet – 10 roses = "_You are perfect_." Burgundy roses signify _unconscious beauty_. Send burgundy roses when you want to tell a woman she's beautiful, but don't want to go so far as to say you're "in love" with her.**


	111. Chapter 111

After Edward's revelation, I pick up my jaw from the ground and help him to unload the back of the car while noting there is some bedding and a rolled-up foam mattress stored in there.

For dinner, we grill marinated steaks over the coals, and from the cooler box that had been collected from The Broho, he produces several pre-packed containers of various salads and some cheesecake. Sitting Indian-style and barefoot on the picnic blanket, we eat dinner and drink some wine, enjoying our easy conversation and the ambient glow from the nearby fire pit. The night is warm enough that I don't need my jacket. The moon is full and low in the sky, and Edward suggests we take a walk around the cove before eating dessert. Taking my hand, he helps me to stand, and we head off.

Along the way, we meet a lovely middle-aged couple who are relaxing on their own private dock on a pair of lawn chairs. John and Leona are enjoying the view of the moon reflected on the water and the warm evening weather. They too are unwinding with a bottle of wine after a hard week of work. According to Leona, this is their usual Friday night ritual in the summer months.

John and Leona mention they have lived in the area for ten years. They ask if we are new to the neighborhood, but Edward explains we are just staying at Aro's for the night.

I envy the couple as they get to live in Gallagher Cove all year round. This area is so peaceful and relaxing. After talking with them for twenty minutes, we say goodbye to John and Leona, and then turn back in the direction of Aro's house. As we near the edge of the property, I can hear strange sounds.

_Psssssshhhhhhhh…tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick- tick-tick… psssssshhhhhhhh…tick-tick-tick-tick-tick… psssssshhhhhhhh. _

I stand and stare, dumbfounded at what I'm seeing.

"Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me," he groans.

I giggle, 'cause hey… What else can I do?

Cry?

"Wow! Aro sure has a lot of sprinklers," I remark.

Hundreds (and I seriously mean _hundreds),_ of pop-up sprinklers emerge from the ground as they begin the process of watering the vast lawns that surround the house. And there in the middle of the artificial deluge is the Volvo. It's just lucky all the doors and windows are closed. Even from where I'm standing, I can see the picnic blanket is already drenched and the fire is being doused. The coals in the pit are barely glowing. The lid of the cooler box has been left open, so I imagine whatever food is left in there will soon be swimming.

He pulls his phone out and scrolls through his contact list. "Aro? Yeah, it's Edward. We've got a slight problem."

After speaking with Aro for a few minutes, he puts his phone in his pocket, and he sits down on the ground on the dirt and leaves.

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking down at him.

"Waiting out the sprinklers. Aro says they're on a timer, and they will stay on like this for about two hours. Apparently, Tanya was meant to turn the electronic system off, but Jane distracted her."

"You're not afraid of a little water, are you, Captain Scaredy Cat?" I tease.

He tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow at me. "What are you suggesting?"

I lower my hand to him, and when he reaches out to hold it, I attempt to pull him up from the ground.

When Edward stands, he brushes off the back of his jeans and looks at me expectantly. "Well?"

Standing beside him, with his hand in mine, I say, "Run!"

"What?"

"I said let's run! Come on!" I release his hand and start running toward the Volvo.

As I race through the spraying water, I quickly get soaked, but I don't care in the least. In this moment, I once again feel like a little kid running through the sprinkler on the front lawn with a childhood friend on a warm summer evening.

"Bella!" I hear him call from a distance behind me.

"Last one to the car is a rotten egg!" I yell. I hear the sound of his pounding footfalls as he races to catch up to me. Suddenly, I feel a smack on my ass. I yelp, and I watch incredulously as he overtakes me. "Hey! You'll pay for that!" I warn, and I try to grab onto the back of his T-shirt.

He laughs and then turns around. Scooping me up in his arms, he runs the rest of the way towards the Volvo as I cling to him, and in hysterics, I giggle the whole time. On reaching the car, I jump straight into the front passenger seat, but Edward takes longer to get in. When he finally closes the door behind him, I note he must have retrieved his car keys from his jacket. His jacket that had been left lying on the picnic blanket. He puts the keys in the ignition and starts the car.

"What are you doing?" I protest.

"I'm moving the car off the lawn. I'll park it on the driveway, and then we'll go into the house and get dry."

"No! Let's stay here."

"Bella, the evening is ruined." He looks downright disappointed.

"No, it's not. Let's just pretend it's raining. Have you ever parked when it's raining and listened to the radio and the sound of raindrops on the roof?"

Parking in the rain was something my friends and I used to do in high school when there was nothing else to do on a miserable day. We'd drive down to the beach, listen to some music, watch the waves roll in, and talk about boys. Well… my friends talked about boys; I just lived vicariously through them. On the one occasion I had parked with a boy, Charlie happened to be on patrol, and he recognized my car. After wrenching the car door open, he hauled Liam out of the passenger seat by the scruff of his neck. We were both seventeen, and the poor guy hadn't even laid a finger on me. We really were _just_ talking.

Edward shakes his head slightly, and it causes droplets of water to drip down the sides of his face. I reach forward and start playing with the radio settings until I find a station that's not playing techno, rap, or heavy-metal music. I finally stop when I hear a Ritchie Valens song.

I look at Edward, who still appears uncertain. "Please. Turn the motor off," I ask.

He turns the key in the ignition off, and the engine stops idling. As the song ends, the voice of the female DJ comes over the airwaves.

"_That was 'We Belong Together', dedicated to Dale from Chantel. Good evening listeners… if you've tuned in, this is Delilah After Dark on KAFE 104.1 FM. Just met someone? Are you out of love or in the best relationship of your life? Let that special person know that you care with a love song dedication and a message. Just call me on 1-888-6-DELILAH… that's 1-888-6-DELILAH. Now, Matt has given us a call tonight, and he's thinking about his long-time love, Jenny. So, Matt, I wonder if you remember the first time you laid eyes on Jenny, and what you thought of her."_

_"All I could think was, "Oh, wow"... and I still do every time I look at her."_

**({'})** _Awww_.

Suddenly, Edward opens the car door. He exits the car and shuts the door behind him. Confused, I watch as he moves to the back of the car, but due to the water sluicing down the sides of the windows, I lose sight of him.

The caller explains to the DJ that Jenny has been the love of his life for the past five years. They were high school sweethearts. "…_I've joined the Marines, and tomorrow I'll be heading off to San Diego for basic training. I'm gonna miss Jenny, so much."_

Edward reappears at the driver-side door, and he's holding a bottle of wine under one arm, a plastic container in his hand, and the handle of an iced tea spoon is in his mouth.

Once seated, he takes the spoon out from between his teeth, and he says, "Dessert? Sorry… I could only find one spoon. Oh, bugger! I also forgot the plates and wine glasses." He passes me the bottle and the container and starts to open the door again, but I lean over to stop him. I laugh because now he's being absurd. He's drenched to the bone.

"Never mind. We'll make do."

Picking up the spoon and the container, I remove the lid. I dig the utensil into the dessert and present the first spoonful to his mouth. He wraps his lips around the mouthful of cheesecake and moans appreciatively. He then licks his lips.

**({'})** _Do that again!_

I take a spoonful of cheesecake for myself to see what all the fuss is about. It's undoubtedly moan-worthy goodness.

Edward is absolutely dripping wet, and his hair is plastered down flat. The material of his white T-shirt is almost transparent, and it clings to his torso like a second skin.

"You didn't have to do this, you know. You already proved to me that you aren't aquaphobic," I say, grinning as I feed him another spoonful, "but thank you."

**({'})** _Damn. He didn't make the sexy noise that time._

I take another mouthful of cheesecake and moan to see if he is just as affected by my reactions to this heavenly dessert.

He is.

I'll have to ask Esme for the recipe.

"Well, I figured if we were going to get wet, I may as well do it thoroughly," he jokes. He uncorks the bottle of wine and offers it to me. I exchange the cheesecake and spoon for the wine and take a drink straight from the bottle.

"_So, Matt, what can I play for you tonight, to let Jenny know how much you're going to miss her."_

"_I'd like to request, "All I Have To Do Is Dream," by The Everly Brothers."_

"_Great choice, and I wish you all the best in the military. And can I just say, listeners, I'm loving all these song requests from the 50s and 60s. Keep it up people. This is for Matt and Jenny."_

I pass the bottle back to Edward. The alcohol warms my insides, but thanks to my wet clothing my skin feels cold and damp. As I watch him drink from the bottle, I begin to shiver.

"Bella, you're cold. We should go inside the house," he implores as he recorks the bottle and stows it on the floor by his feet.

"No… I just need to get out of these wet clothes."

**({'})** _Good plan!_

His expression changes from one of concern to one of surprise, and then unmitigated lust when I pull my damp T-shirt up and over my head. Emboldened by his reaction, I unbutton and unzip my jeans and peel them down my legs. I leave the sodden garments on the floor of the car. Thankfully, my underwear doesn't feel too wet.

**({'})** _But if Edward keeps looking at you in that way, it soon will..._

He quickly reaches over and cups my face in his hands, kissing me passionately; however, when he moves closer in an effort to embrace me, I gently push him away.

Backing himself up against the car door, he starts to ramble apologetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to presume… it's just seeing you in this…," he gestures to my lingerie, "I can't help-"

I lean over the center console and put my hand over his mouth to shut him up. "It's okay, Edward. It's just you're soaking wet. Maybe you should take your shirt off."

**({'}) **_And your jeans. _

Yeah… we'll get to that in a minute.

He pulls his shirt over his head, and his wet T-shirt ends up with my clothes on the floor by my feet. He slowly moves in to hold me, but again I shiver. This time, however, it's not from the cold. Shirtless Edward in this light is truly a sight to behold. From the glow of the moonlight, rippling patterns are projected onto his skin as water pours over the windows and onto the sunroof of the Volvo. It's as though the planes of his body have become a living movie screen, and it's mesmerizing to watch.

"Bella, you're still cold. I can turn on the car heater for you, or the heated seats…"

"Or maybe I should get in the back," I suggest. "I could get warm under the blankets."

He nods. "Okay."

I look over my shoulder to the rear of the car, and I'm thankful Edward had earlier thought to fold all the rear seats down.

On the radio, DJ Delilah announces the next song, and '_It Feels So Right_' by Elvis Presley begins to play.

Turning around in my seat, I kneel on the center console as if I'm about to move through to the back of the car. I'm halfway through, when I hear a groan from Edward. I can tell he's looking at my ass, so I pause.

Looking over my shoulder at him, I say, "While I'm at it, maybe you should join me. You look as though you could do with warming up, but you'll need to do something about those wet pants, birthday boy."

I give him a mischievous wink and then crawl between the front seats into the back of the car.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Ritchie Valens – We Belong Together  
><strong>

**The Everly Brothers – All I Have To Do Is Dream  
><strong>

**Elvis Presley – It Feels So Right**


	112. Chapter 112

Crawling to the rear of the Volvo, I sense Edward's gaze is still fixated on my ass, so I make sure to give it a little wiggle before turning over to sit down. Over the sound of Elvis singing on the radio, I hear him moving about, and then a barely audible moan, and a murmured, "_Holy fuck._"

When our eyes meet again, he gives me that slow, sexy, panty-melting smile that I love so much.

Although he is still at the front end of the car, he's facing me and kneeling with his legs straddling the center console. Leaning with his elbows on the front seat headrests, his hand hangs casually in mid-air near his mouth. After darting his tongue out to moisten his lips, he runs his thumb slowly back and forth along the length of his lower one. His penetrating stare makes me feel as though I'm about to become his last meal – as if I'm something he'd quite like to eat.

**({'})** _Dear God, I hope so!_

His lips, teeth, tongue, and thumb have me transfixed as I think of the many places on my body I'd like to feel them. Thanks to the wine, the dim light of the moon and my lingerie, I'm feeling bold, frisky and provocative. Striking what I hope is a flattering pose, I bend one knee and rest the other leg straight out. I lean backwards on the heels of my hands and pull my shoulders back to show off my boobs.

**({'})** _Come and get it, Captain._

He bites down on his lower lip as his heavy-lidded eyes survey the length of my body. The sexual tension between the two of us is palpable, but I'm left wondering if he's ever going to move from that end of the damn car.

Tilting my head, I ask, "So… are you going to join me back here... or not?"

"Hold your horses. I want to take you in."

"Why? What are you staring at?" I feel some of my seductive bravado slipping away from me.

"A wet dream," he answers, his voice sounding deep and gravelly.

A short laugh escapes me, and I jokingly agree. "Yes, well, I'm definitely wet – thanks to the damn sprinklers." I can feel water dripping into my cleavage from the ends of my hair, so I smooth my hands over the top of it in an attempt to move my hair back over my shoulders and to control any frizziness.

He rolls his eyes at me. "You know that's not what I meant." He smiles wryly before becoming serious. "You know, I don't think you fully understand my desire for you; how much I've wanted you from the day we first met." He pauses and then looks down before continuing. "When you first rejected me, made me think you didn't want anything to do with me, and even when I falsely believed you were interested in Mike, I still really wanted to be with you. Honestly, you have no idea how much... There have been so many times I've guiltily imagined you just like this." He lifts his gaze to me once again. "Bella, right now, you're all of my dirty little dreams come true, and the reality is almost as good as I imagined it would be."

Cocking an eyebrow, I ask, "_Almost_?"

"Well…, I could be cheesy and say it's even hotter than I imagined… I mean… in all the fantasies I've had about you in the last two weeks, you were _definitely_ wearing that outfit, but honestly, I didn't ever imagine we'd be in the back of my car like a couple of teenagers." He scowls and moves his forefinger in a circular motion to indicate the interior of the Volvo. "I like a lot of room to, you know, maneuver. Jesus, there's not even enough room to swing a cat in here!"

**({'})** _But I'm sure there's more than enough room to make a pussy purr, Captain._

In a lowered voice I reply, "Okay… so where exactly do these _maneuvers _usually take place in your little fantasies?" My inquiring mind wants to know about the kinds of dirty thoughts Edward has about me.

"Well, for instance, when I thought about tonight, I imagined we'd be outside on the blanket under the stars."

"That's it?"

He chuckles shyly. "No. Believe me, there have been plenty of x-rated places. The location was pretty much dependent on where I was when I was thinking of you. More often than not, I imagined us in my office because lately I'm there so much."

I roll my hand in a gesture to indicate I want him to elaborate.

"Okay, so I may have fantasized about taking you up against the wall... and maybe you straddling me while I'm sitting on my office chair – always finishing with your body bent forward over the end of my desk." He smirks and waggles his eyebrow suggestively.

**({'})**_ Hell. To. The. Yes!_ *twitch*

My heart rate increases as a result of his confession. Earlier in the day, when we visited the heliport to see Carlisle, I'd had the opportunity to see his office for myself. I'll readily admit I, too, had stared dazedly at his large desk and had a little sexual scenario play out in my mind. I'd fantasized about sweeping off the pens and paperwork sitting atop Edward's desk with the back of my arm, and then throwing him down on its surface to ride him like a prize-winning racehorse.

"Well… I'll see what I can do. You'll have to pencil me in for a late night, one-on-one meeting." I give him an eyebrow waggle of my own, and he chuckles.

"Did I happen to mention you were wearing black, laced-topped, thigh-high stockings… and heels? Yeah, some of those 'fuck-me-heels'. Also you may have arrived at my office door wearing a trench coat."

"Okay, now you're just making shit up as you go along," I say in mock-accusation, and I laugh with him. However, my nipples tingle with desire as I seriously consider acting out this fantasy with him sometime soon. Very soon.

**({'}) **_One trench coat… check. I'll add it to the shopping list._

Deciding I've had all the banter I can handle for now, I smile and give him the 'come hither' signal, and finally, he makes a move to crawl between the front seats. Due to his body size, he struggles to get between them and falls on his side at my feet, with a soft, "_Oooff_," sound rushing from his lungs.

"Oh yeah… that was really smooth, Cullen," he admonishes himself. Turning onto his stomach, he rolls his eyes and gives me an embarrassed smile. "See what I mean about needing room to maneuver?"

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop my laughter. The song on the radio changes, and I hear the sound of saxophones as the first strains of '_I Just Want To Make Love To You'_ by Etta James, comes through the speakers. The song is playful and perfect for the mood I'm in.

Getting up on hands and knees, he begins to crawl toward me, as though he's stalking prey, but I block his progress by lifting my leg and pressing my toes against his collarbone.

"Ah-ah-ah. Easy, tiger," I say in a sing-song voice. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

His eyebrows rise with a questioning expression, and then he looks down at my foot. He almost manages to bite my ankle playfully; however, before his teeth can make contact, I slide my foot along the planes of his bare chest and abdomen. I finish my descent when the top of my foot is resting over the button fly of his jeans. Experimentally, I move my foot back and forth over the wet denim, feeling his cock hardening under the pressure of my toes.

He moans and his head slumps down, presumably to watch my impromptu foot-job against his denim clad erection; but then I stop and drop my foot to the mattress below. I almost swear that I can hear a small growl emanate from his throat before he lifts his head to look at me with a frustrated pout.

"Take off your pants," I say by way of explanation, and he finally comprehends what I want.

He straightens up, so he's kneeling with his thighs apart, sitting on the backs of his calves. Without taking his gaze from mine, he reaches for the clasp of his belt and slowly he removes it, almost as if he's performing a seductive striptease to the beat of the song. Taking the ends of the belt in his hands, he loops it around his palms. His eyes are full of mischief, and he grins at me wickedly. As if I can read his mind, I realize he has plans for that belt, so I quickly get to my knees as if to make my escape to the other side of the car. Resistance is futile. "Gotcha," he crows triumphantly.

I let out a shriek and a laugh as I'm pulled towards him by the belt. He's managed to loop it around my hips, and it forces me to shuffle toward him on my knees. When I'm kneeling directly in front of him, he drops the belt and pulls me closer to him by palming his hands against my ass. His hard cock is pressing against my abdomen, and my hands are resting on his bare chest as I steady myself.

"You wanna get me out of these wet pants?" he murmurs seductively, as his warm breath and lips brush along the shell of my ear. Taking my hand in one of his, he guides my fingers down to his button fly and presses our hands over the hard bulge, so I'm firmly cupping him in my palm. He releases my hand, and then gently pulls my face toward his, so our lips can merge.

His kisses are soft, and his tongue probes deeply into my mouth. I drop my other hand between our bodies, so I can stroke and knead his hard cock through the wet denim. Wordlessly, I begin to undo the buttons as he places open-mouthed kisses along my neck. I'm distracted by the sensation of his mouth as he kisses and nibbles my skin. His lips make their way along my jaw and...

O_h. Fuck. Me…_

His tongue is licking the sensitive spot behind my ear. Inexplicably, that particular area seems to be connected to my clit, and I feel an aching pulse in my pussy. His name falls breathily from my lips. I've never felt so turned on before, and he's barely touched me. I already feel as though my skin is on fire.

"Help me," I beg. I'm shaking so much my fingers are fumbling uselessly at the buttons.

Once again, his lips meet mine, and he kisses me fervently. I feel him guiding our bodies down to the mattress beneath us, so we are positioned on our sides. Without breaking our kiss, he reaches down between our bodies and releases the remaining buttons on his fly, but he makes no move to pull off his jeans. Instead, he once again grabs my hands, and he places them on his waistband. And I get it. He wants _me_ to be the one to undress him.

I push him roughly onto his back, and I start raining open-mouthed kisses on his neck, chest, abdomen and hip bones. I sit up to kneel next to his thighs, so I can pull off his jeans. Grasping the waistband, I forcibly yank the wet material down when he lifts his hips. I've only managed to get his jeans down to mid-thigh when I see something staring me in the face.

Cock?

**({'})** _Cock!_

Where in the hell is his underwear?

**({'})** _Holy shit! _

It seems as though naughty Edward was going commando under his jeans the whole damn time. Surprised to be so quickly faced with the sight of his extremely turgid cock, I gasp.

**({'}) **_Volume equals pi r squared h, where r equals the radius of the cylinder and h is the height or length of the cylinder…_

What the fuck?

**({'}) **_Then… volume equals pi R squared h, minus pi r squared h, equals pi h times r squared minus R squared, where R is the radius of the outer surface and r is the radius of the inner surface…_

What in the Hell are you babbling about, Libby?

I think she must have been dickmatized by Edward's beautiful cock.

**({'}) **_I'm trying to work out how on Earth **that** is going to fit in me! It's been two years, and he's bigger than Randall and Eric… even BOB! So just give me a break while I go into panic mode, okay!?_

He isn't ridiculously enormous, like a porn star or anything, but she's right – his cock has got some decent length and girth, and it _has_ been a while.

"Bella?"

His voice distracts me from my ogling, and suddenly I can't seem to move fast enough to pull his jeans all the way off. Although I'd previously seen Edward dressed in just a pair of tight swim shorts, the whole package, once revealed, is phenomenal, and I can't wait to get my mouth on him. He makes a move to sit up, but I place my hands on his chest and push him down to the mattress again. I take his thick cock in my hand and squeeze him firmly. As I slowly stroke him, he whimpers and bucks his hips in time with my rhythm.

After a minute or so, I see him looking up at me with an expression that tells me he wasn't expecting _this_ of me yet, and he begins to protest, albeit weakly. "Bella, you don't have to-,"

I halt his concerns by crawling over him and kissing him passionately. He wraps his arms around me, and I can feel his warm, rigid cock pressing hard on my thigh as he pushes his hands down on my ass. He thrusts his hips up once to grind against me and moans into my mouth.

Breaking our kiss, I trail my lips along the length of his jaw to his earlobe, and I whisper, "I want to taste your cock. I swear I'll make it feel so good for you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

He moans again, and I rejoice when he relents and releases me from his tight embrace. I give him a wink and a smile as I crawl backwards along the length of his body; back to the one place I want to be at this precise moment in time – kneeling between his muscular thighs.

Looking up at him through my half-lowered lashes, so I can gauge his reaction, I again grasp his cock in my hand. Flicking my tongue out, I lick up and down and back and forth along the underside of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the head a few times before taking him fully into my mouth – or at least as much of him as I can comfortably take in. A sexy, strangled moan escapes his throat, as I begin to bob my head and swirl with my tongue around his tip. Then I begin to squeeze and pump my hand along his shaft in time with the movements of my mouth.

"Uh! Fuck…yes! Suck me. So good… your mouth… God…"

In the background, I'm vaguely aware The Drifters are singing 'Stand By Me', but the sounds and words that are uttered from Edward's lips are the sexiest soundtrack ever. He's quite vocal, and the feedback turns me on.

"Your lips… Fuck... your tongue... so good..."

"The best…uhhhh… you're the… oh God… best…

"Yes... Do that... again…

"Suck me... suck it harder, baby. Ungh."

I love how the act of fellatio makes me feel submissive and yet in control of a man's pleasure, but only when I'm the one in command of setting the depth. Tell me to go faster, and I will; specifically tell me what to do, and I'll do it, but for me, there is nothing less sexy than having a guy roughly pushing down on my head and jack hammering his cock into my throat until I'm tearing up and gagging.

Selfishly, Eric tried to make me to swallow his cock on more than one occasion, and let's just say the consequences weren't pretty. As a result, I threw up, and refused to go down on him for a few months as payback. I may be a speech pathologist who knows about every muscle, tendon, nerve and ligament in the human mouth, jaw and neck, but I still have a gag reflex just like most normal human beings – thank you very much.

For now, I am the one in charge of setting the pace.

"Bella, you're so fucking beautiful… uhh, fuuuck..."

Edward is gently holding onto my head, caressing my face and occasionally sweeping strands of hair away from my lips. He's not gripping my hair tightly, thrusting up, or physically guiding my movements. In fact, the way he's holding my face is almost reverential. Through the veil of my fringe, I watch his reactions as I suck, and lick, and pump him. He scrunches his eyebrows, and his cheeks redden. I love the way his lips part as he gasps and pants for breath. When he opens his eyes and lifts his head to watch me, I briefly smile around his cock and reach down with my other hand to cup, pull, and stroke his balls, before moving lower to lightly caress him on the patch of skin just beneath them.

"Oh yeah…" he groans loudly, as his eyes roll back. His upper-body slumps to the mattress below, and the muscles in his jaw and neck begin to twitch and tighten.

Pulling out all the tricks, I begin to hum around his cock, and before long, I watch in fascination as every muscle of his abdomen tightens, becoming more defined as tremors ripple throughout his body. It's then I know he is close to coming. Ever the gentleman, he taps me on the shoulder as a warning, and I look into his dark, lust-filled eyes. I know what he's indicating, but I want him to finish in my mouth. I shake my head at him minutely and wink, as if to say, _"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing – this is what **I** want."_

Humming in earnest, I move my lips, tongue and hand even faster along his shaft, while applying more pressure as I massage his perineum. He smiles at me in thanks and his grip tightens in my hair as his eyes begin to close. Finally, he's giving himself permission to be overwhelmed by the sensations my mouth and hands are bestowing on his body. His head falls down to the mattress, and then his neck and shoulders begin to slowly arch back in ecstasy. In my peripheral vision, I see his thighs tense and lift up slightly on either side of me as his muscles begin to contract with the power of his impending orgasm. I hear his breathing accelerate and then suddenly stop.

"Uh... Uuuuuunhhhhhh… yeahhhhh," he groans loudly, as he comes in warms streams inside my mouth.

Watching Edward's face as he orgasms is truly something special. I wish I could replay the image over and over in a loop. I feel an immense sense of accomplishment that I've made this gorgeous man come undone at my touch, and I can't wait until I get the chance to see it happen again... and again... and again.

I swallow all that he gives me, and when his cock begins to diminish in my mouth, I lick him clean with considerable pleasure, ever thankful his essence doesn't taste too unpleasant to my taste buds. As soon as I release him from my mouth, he sits up and grasps my face firmly between his hands. He rains kisses all over my face before plunging his tongue deeply into my mouth. His kisses are unrestrained and wild, and they take my breath away due to the strength of his passion.

"Thank you," he says between kisses, his voice sounding breathy and sultry to my ears, "but I… do believe… now… it's my turn."

**({'})**… _!_


	113. Chapter 113

Before I can even respond to his statement, Edward scoops me up in his embrace, and he flips us around so that we're lying diagonally on the mattress. Grabbing a nearby pillow, he places it under my head and shoulders.

His warm, but damp body moves to cover mine, and our faces are level. We are eye to eye.

Supported by his elbows, he enfolds me in his arms and clutches the back of my shoulders in his large hands.

I welcome the feeling of his lower body pressing against mine, and I possessively wrap my legs around him; as if I can somehow draw him even closer to me. Tilting my face, I bury my nose into the crook of his neck, and I butterfly-kiss his skin while greedily inhaling the lingering woodsy tones of his cologne. I can never seem to get enough of his scent. His carotid pulse beats rapidly against my cheekbone, and when I suddenly bite him on the neck to taste his skin, a deep moan emerges from his throat.

Looking up at his gorgeous face, I marvel at his perfectly symmetrical features. I take a moment to admire his straight nose, his kiss-swollen parted lips, his high, chiseled cheekbones and his strong, square jaw. As I reach up to sweep back some wet tendrils of hair that are hanging in front of his eyes, his sexy five-o'clock shadow rasps against the skin of my inner forearm.

Our eyes lock, and I melt under his lust-darkened gaze. The air inside the Volvo is thick with humidity due to our damp hair and skin, the discarded wet clothes, and our heavy breathing. The car windows have fogged to the point where condensation has begun to trickle down like tears. The heat between the two of us, as we fluidly move our bodies against each other in time to the song on the radio, can only be described as scorching.

Lowering his mouth towards mine, his tongue teases my bottom lip. He seeks entry, and I give it to him willingly. He then erotically begins to make love to my mouth with his own. At first, his tongue only lightly flicks back and forth along the inner edge of my lips, and he teases the sensitive corners of my mouth. For me, it's a revelation that no other man has found this erogenous zone before because it has me whimpering for more and more. It's unquestionably the hottest kissing experience of my entire existence.

"Mmm… you like that, don't you," he murmurs against my lips. "Just wait until I get my mouth on your pussy."

His teeth then nip playfully at my top lip before gently sucking the bottom one into his mouth. Rhythmically, his tongue begins to delve in and out of my mouth in time with the movement of our hips. It seems as though Edward is giving me a prelude into what he's going to do to me with his lips, teeth and tongue when his face is pressed between my thighs. The way he's kissing me makes me feel as though my blood might actually start to boil. I seriously begin to wonder if it is, in fact, possible to die from anticipation.

He's much taller than I am, so I find I'm grinding up against his hard abs rather than his pelvis. Even so, I rock my hips, seeking the friction that I desperately need to satisfy the ache that has gradually built up within my pussy. My fingers reach up to entangle themselves into the hair at the nape of his neck, so I can further anchor myself as I writhe wantonly beneath him.

"I can't wait to bury my tongue inside of you," he says huskily into my ear as if to confirm my previous thoughts.

His words cause a warm flood of arousal to seep from my pussy, and my clit tingles. Needing to breathe before I start to pass out from lack of oxygen, I break away from yet another toe-curling kiss and turn my face to the side. He brushes his nose against the side of mine in an affectionate way, before moving his face lower to place sensuous kisses along the column of my neck, darting his tongue out to lick my skin softly with every single kiss. He gently bites and nibbles his way along my collarbone before moving his mouth to the tops of my breasts.

"This bra is really gorgeous, but it needs to go," he mumbles while kissing and licking the valley between my breasts. His hand works its way down my spine, and single-handedly, he releases the clasp. I raise my arms in the air, and he removes my bra.

As soon as my bra has been tossed somewhere in the general vicinity of the front seats, his mouth descends to lick one nipple as his fingers and thumb tease and trace the other. Alternating from side to side, his tongue teases my breasts, stroking me into madness.

Somewhere within my lust crazed consciousness, I become aware someone is crying out like a whore in heat, competing with the sounds of Percy Sledge, who is wailing on the radio. And then I realize… it's me.

I hear his muttered voice against my skin. "God, you are so fuckin' sexy and responsive."

Once again, he gently suckles and bites my nipples, which have contracted to the point of pain under the combined onslaught of his fingers and mouth. I moan again when his hands softly squeeze my breasts. He then moves his mouth lower down to lick his way along my abdomen. Briefly, he swirls his tongue in and around my belly button, which makes me laugh and writhe.

Now kneeling between my parted thighs, he playfully uses his teeth to pick up the black metal Playboy bunny tag sewn in the center of the dainty ribbon at the top of my panties. He pulls it up and then releases it, causing the elastic waistband of my panties to snap against my skin. He grins at me, and I giggle.

"And as much as I like these knickers – they also have to go." Giving me two light smacks on the side of my ass, he says, "Lift up for me." He hooks his fingers into the waistband, and I raise my hips, watching him as he sits up and slowly drags the scrap of red satin and black lace down my legs. While humming, '_Happy Birthday To Me_,' he twirls my panties around his finger before throwing them carelessly over his shoulder, and it causes me to laugh again.

Lying down between my legs, so his cheek is resting on my inner thigh, he begins to stroke the outer lips of my pussy with his fingers. I'm stunned at how different everything feels because I'm bare down there. I can even feel his hot breath as it fans sensuously across my skin. Moving forward, he nuzzles the mound of my pussy. He then slowly kisses his way around my outer lips.

"Che bella figa," he whispers, before dipping down to lick me all the way from my entrance to my clit with the flat part of his tongue.

"Oh!" It's finally happening. I attempt to prop myself up on my elbows, so I can watch him, but I fall uselessly to the pillow when he licks me again and begins to swirl his tongue around my clit.

"_OhGodOhGodOhGodOhhh...Gooooood._"

I can hear and feel him chuckling under his breath. His hands reach up to stroke my breasts as he goes down on me with his mouth. He pulls and pinches my nipples, almost to the point of pain, but it feels so incredible that I'm squirming and trembling. When I feel his tongue flicking back and forth across the hood of my clit, I look up.

His eyes are glued to mine, and the tip of his tongue is licking me where it feels the best. He then closes his eyes and moans. Arousal seeps from my pussy, and when he dips his mouth to capture it, he plunges his tongue into my entrance.

I muffle my cries against the inner surface of my arm, when he pushes my knees towards my face and fucks me with his tongue.

"Mmmmmm, yes," he moans deeply.

My eyes roll to the back of my head. And I fucking die.

_Hello, God._

He then licks, sucks and kisses the length of my pussy, gradually increasing the force of his tongue against my sensitive flesh. My breathing is erratic, and I can feel my face and neck heating up. His mouth feels so good. It's incredible.

One of his hands finds its way to my entrance and he circles it slowly before sliding a finger inside. I let out a moan and my mouth parts in awe as he rapidly thrusts his finger inside me.

When he takes his mouth away from my pussy, I scowl at him and almost growl in displeasure. He gazes up at me from between my thighs. His breathing is just as rapid as mine, and then a slightly devilish smirk plays on his lips. He adds a second finger and curls them up knowingly, hitting something I never knew existed. My pulse rate speeds up to the point where it feels as though my heart is going to explode.

I can no longer keep my eyes open. My hips move of their own accord, in time with the action of his skilled fingers. The whimpers and moans that spill from my lips begin to increase in both frequency and magnitude. And though his fingers feel phenomenal, I want more of his tongue. I _need_ it.

"Lick me," I beg with every ounce of longing in my voice, and he obeys. His fingers and mouth work in tandem.

I moan loudly as his tongue swirls around my pussy before he takes my clit into his warm, soft mouth. As he skillfully sucks, the building tension within my pussy begins to spread out - overwhelming every part of me. Unconsciously, I begin to move my hips.

"Don't... stop," I plead, and my hand reaches down to grip the back of his head. He allows me to guide his movements to where I need him the most; to chase the tingling sensations that are beginning to intensify with each deft stroke of his tongue.

My back, neck, and shoulders begin to arch.

My eyes squeeze shut, and my mouth opens in a silent cry.

My calves tighten.

My toes curl inward, and they dig into the sheet beneath me.

My abdomen clenches.

The air within my lungs expands as I try to remember to breathe.

"Oh, Edward… I'm… I'm-" My intended word catches in my throat when I stop breathing. My upper body launches off the mattress, and I raggedly gasp. "Oh God, oh… Uhh…"

I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the most intensely pleasurable orgasm I've ever experienced. Shamelessly, I hold his head in my hands and clutch his hair tightly in my fist.

"Ahh… F-f-fuuuuuuck!" I gyrate my hips rhythmically as I continue to come and come and come against his mouth and around his fingers. I'm vaguely aware I'm uttering unintelligible words that make me sound as though I'm speaking in tongues. I feel as though I've been transported to somewhere heavenly. I've lost touch with reality, and I'm seeing God and the stars.

It hardly seems possible that something that feels this mind-blowing exists on Earth. And it hardly seems fair I'm only just discovering it. In some ways, I feel cheated, and that's because in the short history of my sad and pathetic sex life, never before have I come so hard or for so long.

As I come down from my orgasmic high, his hands and lips attempt to soothe my body, but I'm so sensitive right now that every touch feels like an electric shock against my skin. I whimper and push his face and hands away from me, and curl onto my side. My hand presses over my sternum as I attempt to regain my breath and slow down my heart rate. I'm shaking like a leaf. I'm light-headed, and everything is a bit hazy, so I close my eyes and just breathe.

After a minute or two, I hear him ask, "Bella? Are you okay?"

I open my eyes, one at a time, to see his worried expression, and it's adorable. His face is hovering over mine. He begins to sweep strands of hair off my forehead, and this time his touch feels calming.

"I'm a little better than okay." I say seriously before breaking out into an ecstatic grin. Throwing my arms around his neck, I roll on top of him and kiss him on the tip of his nose. "Actually, I feel… absolutely awesome!"

**({i}) **_Smoke 'em if you got 'em. _*_lights_ _up_ an _imaginary post-orgasmic-bliss cigarette*_

And now, I, Bella Swan, feel as though I can die a happy woman. However, something underneath me has begun to stir...

**({'}) **_Oh, hello_, _El Capitán… back so soon?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN – The phrase "che bella figa" is a little bit controversial.**

**In Italian, **_**La figa**_** refers to a beautiful, sexy woman. So **_**che bella figa**_** means, "_W_**_**_hat_ a beautiful woman**_**!" **

**However, both **_**figa and fica**_** are slang terms for a woman's vagina. They are the Italian equivalents of pussy (or the c-word that I honestly don't care for) so the phrase may also mean, "_W_**_**_hat_ a beautiful pussy**_**." **

**Apparently a lot of Italian men feel **_**bella figa**_** is the highest compliment a man can give a woman. Some women are proud to hear the words **_**bella figa**_**, because a man usually speaks them only when he finds a woman sexually attractive. However, some women might turn around and smack a guy in the mouth for saying that phrase.**

**;o)**

**B.O.B xxx**


	114. Chapter 114

Slowly, Edward moves his hands over the curves of my hips. He cups my bottom, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before pulling me even closer to him. The underside of his warm, hard cock is pressing insistently into the skin of my belly.

He murmurs seductively into my ear, "Mmmm, I liked watching you come. You're amazing," and then he begins to kiss my neck.

**({'}) **_Yeah… you were pretty hot too. Let's fuck now so we can see it again!_

I feel my face and neck blush at his compliment; as if I needed to appear even blotchier. The remnant of a sex flush is still visible on the tops of my breasts. I probably look as though I have a wicked case of hives.

Unable to form a reply, I kiss his forehead and smile in contentment as I remember how he had made me feel. I'd never experienced something quite so intimate before. I felt vulnerable, yet worshiped. I have a strong suspicion I'll be replaying the image of Edward going down on me during my '_alone_ _times'_ for many years to come.

"You have the most beautiful smile… do you know that?" he asks.

I kiss him on the jaw, and I smile again… finding it impossible not to smile after such a compliment.

"You have the prettiest brown eyes I have ever seen, too."

I have a silly urge to make myself go cross-eyed to make him laugh. Instead, my eyelids flutter closed when he moves to gently place a kiss on each of my eyelids. When I open my eyes, he is smiling at me.

"And your hair…," he brushes strands of my hair behind my ear, "it's… like a mad haystack."

I chuckle and then kiss his lips. He opens his mouth to me, and I suddenly realize I can detect my own intimate scent on his lips. The fact I can taste myself on his tongue is both erotic and new to me. He kisses me softly as his hands move in a series of gentle caresses that trace vertically up and down both sides of my spine. I almost feel as though he is making a tactile map of my body - committing every single part of me to memory as his fingers drift over every curve and line. By the time we break our kiss for air, I'm a panting, horny mess.

"I might as well warn you… flattery will get you anywhere," I say, quoting Jane Russell from the movie, '_Gentlemen Prefer Blondes._' I turn my face, so I can kiss my way along his jaw line.

He chuckles. "In that case, we haven't got any problems," he says, perfectly reciting the very next line from the movie. He had mentioned over dinner he was a fan of old movies and could often quote whole scripts verbatim. "But I'll have you know… Bella… this… gentleman… most definitely… prefers brunettes… over blondes," he murmurs between kisses and nibbles on my neck.

I laugh. "Ha! You're no gentleman, Edward Cullen. _Che Bella Figa? _Really_, _I should slap you."

**({'}) **_Well I took it as a compliment..._

He snickers. "You actually knew that?" he asks, sounding surprised."

"I may have heard it before, Mister dirty talker."

"So, someone's said that to you before?" He almost sounds annoyed.

"No, it was said to a college friend of mine one day as we were walking around campus, and she asked me if I knew what it meant, because my name was in the phrase. We ended up searching for the phrase online, and when we found out what it meant, she went back and smacked the guy over the head with her heaviest anatomy and physiology textbook." We both laugh. "So, when did you learn to speak Italian?" I ask.

"During my misspent youth I had the opportunity to travel to Italy several times. Paul's mum was from Italy, and for a week or two during the summer months, we would stay with his Aunt. Paul's oldest cousin taught us Italian slang words, which used to get us into a lot of trouble until we both learned enough Italian to understand what he had actually been teaching us to say."

"Say something else dirty to me in Italian."

He chuckles and then pauses in thought before whispering seductively into my ear, "Hmmm. How about… è il vostro sorca bello pronta per me?"

I shiver at his words even though I don't understand the phrase. "What does that mean?"

**({'}) **_I hope it means, 'fuck me now.'_

"That's for me to know… you just need to know that your answer should always be, '_Yes_, _Edward_.'"

**({'}) **_I **seriously** hope it means, 'fuck me now.'_

He grins mischievously, and I laugh.

"Yeah, right. That could be dangerous. I could be agreeing to anything. For all I know, that could be the Italian phrase for, '_Do you like anal sex?'_"

He bursts out laughing and then buries his face into the crook of my neck again.

"Oh my God! It is, isn't it!?" I shriek, and then I smack him playfully on the shoulder.

"I swear, Bella; it's not. That would be, 'Ti piace il sesso anale?'"

**({'}) **_Grrrr_**. **_And the answer would be, 'It's an exit, not an entrance.'_

"Well, tell me what you said."

He turns his face to place open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder. I whimper and become lost in the sensation of his lips on my skin. His hand moves between our bodies so that his thumb rubs lightly over my clit. His other hand cups and squeezes my bottom once again.

"I asked you if your beautiful pussy was ready for me…" he says, and then he bites the skin at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

**({'}) **_*swoon* *gurgle*_

The delicious sensation of his bite causes another flood of arousal to surge through me. "Yes, Edward, I'm ready," I moan in desire.

He sits up and leans sideways to open the center console between the front seats. He briefly fumbles with a box before finally extracting a condom. As he rips the foil wrapper open, I reach down between our bodies and stroke his cock with my hand. My touch elicits a hiss and a groan of pleasure from him, and he begins to kiss me hard and urgently.

"Let me," I say taking the condom from him, and I push him down to the mattress once again. I roll the condom down his shaft and then we position ourselves so we are again lying diagonally on the mattress. He is on his back, and he has to keep his knees bent in order to fit his body into the confined space in the back of the Volvo. Taking his hard cock in my hand, I pump him in my fist a few times. I lean forward to tease my clit with the head of his cock, and I moan. I feel his tip at my entrance, and I'm just about to slide myself down on his cock when something unbelievably catastrophic happens.


	115. Chapter 115

_Snap_.

"What the fuck?" we both speak at once.

**({'})** _Shit_.

I move backwards to sit on Edwards thighs, and I stare down in disbelief.

"It broke. I can't believe the bloody condom broke. Did you happen to snag it with a ring or your fingernails? That's never happened to me before," he exclaims.

**({'})** _Uh-oh_.

Well, it _has_ happened to me. Recently. Just last week, as a matter of fact.

A broken homemade condom ice pack.

Fuck. My. Life.

And unlike alcoholic-laced ice-cream fudgsicles, I'm one hundred percent certain that Edward is, in fact, capable of impregnating me. Nine month-old Emily Rose Cullen is living proof of his fertility. And I'm somewhere in the middle of my cycle... hence the horniness.

"Um… Did you happen to buy the condoms from Walgreens?"

"Yeah… why?" he asks as he rips off the tattered remains of the torn condom and discards it in the ashtray. He reaches his hand into the center console once again, and he pulls out another foil packet from the box. He begins to open it, but I tear it out of his grasp.

I reach up and turn on the overhead light. The illumination it gives off is dim, but I'm able to read the packaging of the condom.

**({'})** Noooooooooooo_!_

It's an expired Trojan Magnum XL.

Fuck you Walgreens and your pathetic stock control methods. Fuck. You.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuckers.

I mean... Jesus! Surely someone else in this town buys Magnum XLs?

**({'})** _Maybe it's only the pencil dicks and cocktail franks who shop at Walgreens? Either way, I can feel my hymen growing back! Someone must die!_

I sigh.

"These condoms are out of date, like ridiculously out of date, so we can't use them… not unless you want to play 'mommy and daddy' with me in nine or so months, of course… but then you've already mentioned kids and marriage aren't in your future, so…" I'm unsure if this is an appropriate or inopportune time to broach the topic of his long-term plans in regards to our relationship.

"Weren't."

"Huh?"

"You said '_aren't_,' and I just corrected you."

"Again I say, 'Huh?'"

He sighs, flops down on the mattress, and holds his arms out to me, encouraging me to lie down next to him. He grabs the edge of one of the nearby blankets and pulls it across our bodies to cover us.

"You said kids and marriage _aren't_ in my future. I'm saying they _weren't_."

"What do you mean? What's the difference?"

"The difference is that everything in my life has changed. When I was in the Army, I didn't want those things because without them, I thought my life would be a lot less complicated. Long absences can be tough to deal with in any relationship, but being in a relationship with someone who works in the military can be even harder. Most of the guys I flew with were divorced or going through a divorce, and those who had kids hardly ever got to see them."

"I guess absence doesn't necessarily make the heart grow fonder. Was there a lot of infidelity?"

"While deployment means there are more opportunities for infidelity - on both sides - there are a lot of other stresses in the military that can take their toll on a relationship. From talking with Carlisle, I know he and Lily found it difficult negotiating their roles within their family. He said whenever he returned from deployment, Lily found it difficult to adjust to having him around. She was so used to being completely in charge - totally responsible for Rosie and running the household from day to day. When he was away from home she didn't need to take Carlisle's opinions into account. There were times she resented Carlisle's input when he was home, and without realizing it, she was making him feel as though he was unimportant and unnecessary in her life.

"Although Lily and Carlisle managed to save their marriage through counseling, it's a fact that divorce rates are high within the military. And then of course there is the potential for the worst-case scenario for any partner - death. Just look at Rosie, she was pregnant and widowed at twenty seven. Paul and Rosie had only been married for two years, and for almost half of their marriage he was in Afghanistan."

"So you're saying that now you are no longer in the Army, you're open to the idea of a future with a wife… and kids?" My heart skips a nervous beat waiting for his answer.

He smiles. "Is this your not so subtle way of asking if I'm looking at our relationship as a long-term thing or a fling?"

I give him the scowl. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to answer a question with a question?"

"You do realize you just asked me a question in answer to my question?" He's smirking at me now. "And besides, according to Budda, there are questions that _should_ be answered with a counter-question."

"I don't care what Budda thinks. It _is_ rude to answer a question with a question if you are doing it purposely to avoid answering the original question." I raise my eyebrows in challenge and then giggle.

"So, you've already told me that I'm no gentleman, and now I'm rude, too?" He laughs as he attempts to avoid my playful slap on his arm, and then he sighs before holding me tighter. "Look… I'm not the same person I once was. I quit my job with the Army for a variety of reasons, but mostly it was to be with my family, and in the last year alone, a lot of things have happened to me that have changed my previous views on life and relationships.

"I lost my best friend in the whole world. After two decades of being fatherless, I became a step-son, and then I almost came close to losing Carlisle. I became a step-brother to Rosie, a godfather, an uncle, and a guardian to Milly. And then of course, there's Emmett, who almost managed to die - twice.

"So, is this the part where you tell me that we can't be friends anymore because you're a jinx, or you're cursed?"

He rolls his eyes at me. "No… this is the part where I tell you how I came to realize that even though I had my family around me, I was lonely."

"Oh."

"Through everything that happened – both the good and bad – I realized I had no one I could talk to outside of my family. I was so busy trying to be supportive of everyone else, but there was no one there for me. I realized something was missing in my life.

"So to answer your original question, the answer is, 'yes.' I'm open to the idea of a future with a wife and kids. And as soon as I find the right woman, I'll be sure to send you an invitation to our wedding and everything," he teases. When my jaw drops, he bursts into a fit of laughter. "What's wrong? Do you want me and my future wife to name our first-born after you as well?"

"What?" I shriek, and I start smacking him for teasing me. "Why you- Ahhh!" My words are cut off when he grabs both of my wrists in one of his large hands, and he starts tickling my sides. Edward rolls on top of me, and I'm laughing and wriggling beneath him until I'm gasping for breath. "Stop. Stop… I can't take any more torture," I plead between giggles. He stops tickling, but he is still holding both of my wrists above my head when he moves in to kiss me deeply. I can feel his cock becoming fully erect again, and I grind against him.

"I don't suppose you have any condoms here?" he asks with a pleading look.

I shake my head. "I only packed my toothbrush. Alice packed the rest of my bag, and I know I didn't have any condoms at home.

"But didn't I see you buy a packet of condoms just a week ago, '_safety girl_'?"

"Duh! How do you think I knew where you bought the out-of-date condoms from, Edward?" I raise my eyebrows waiting for him to make the connection."

He looks at me sheepishly. "Oh… right. Duh!" We both sigh in frustration as he releases my wrists and rolls off of me. He scrubs his hands over his face. "I'm really sorry. This whole night has turned out to be a bit of a disaster." He grabs the blanket once again and tries to hide his erection from me.

**({'}) **_Not acceptable._

"Awww… I wouldn't say that. Personally, I think this whole evening has been wonderful, and I'm sure I'll always look back on this night fondly." I snuggle up to his side and run my hand slowly along the length of his thigh. He turns his face to look at me. "In fact, when you _do_ get married - if the right woman eventually does come along, of course - I'm going to drink lots of champagne at your reception. Then when I'm good and drunk, during the speeches, I'm going to grab the microphone and regale everyone with amusing anecdotes from the night we had a box of broken condoms and mind-altering oral sex. Your new parents-in-law will love me for being the life of the party."

He laughs at my idiocy until my hand moves up to stroke his cock. "Bella… we can't-" he groans plaintively. "Keep this up and I'm going to have to take a cold shower out on the lawn amongst the sprinklers."

I know he thinks the fun-time is over because we can't use the condoms, but I have other plans.

"So tell me, Edward… how do you say, '_sixty-nine me,_' in Italian?"

He grins wickedly.

"Sessantanove me, Bella?"

"Yes, Edward."


	116. Chapter 116

"Bella?"

"Mmhmm?" Hmm… it seems I must have dozed off shortly after orgasm number three. Edward's body feels so warm spooned behind me, that I wriggle back further into his embrace.

"You hear that?" he asks.

Surreptitiously, I check myself for drool as I listen carefully. I can hear the night song of about a million crickets outside the car. And there's an awful country and western duet coming from the radio.

**_You're the reason our kids are ugly, little darlin'  
>Ah, but looks ain't ev'rythin'<br>and money ain't ev'rythin'  
>But I love you just the same.<em>**

The bizarre lyrics make me snicker. "What in the fuck is this song?" I yawn.

He chuckles and then kisses my shoulder. "Not the song, dopey. I was talking about outside the car. The sprinklers have stopped."

I lift my head, and I can see the truth of his words. "Oh, thank God!" I sit up quickly and look around for my panties and overnight bag. I desperately need to find a bathroom, so I can pee and freshen up.

After handing me the keys to the house, he opens the rear door of the Volvo, and we both scramble out. Semi-nude and barefooted, I tip toe across the soggy lawn toward the house and leave Edward to deal with our sodden picnic blanket and the contents of the drowned cooler box.

Once inside the mud room, I discover a small bathroom with a basin off to the side.

Bladder finally relieved, I stand in front of the basin so I can wash my face and brush my teeth. I place my overnight bag on the counter and pull out my toiletries case from the side pocket.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are brighter than I've ever seen them before, and I seem to be glowing from the inside.

After brushing my teeth, taming the sex-hair, and washing off the little remaining make-up on my face, I open the main compartment of the bag to see what's been packed for me to sleep in.

**({'})** *_snicker_* _Oh, Alice..._

"What the fuck? Seriously?" I mutter as I dig through the unfamiliar contents of the bag. "Jesus! There's enough lingerie in here for a Victoria's Secret fashion show. Is she trying to give me a freakin' heart attack?"

**({'}) **_Actually, I think the heart attack was intended for Edward. Wowsers! Check out that little white number! Woohoo!_

There are five different bra and panty sets in various colors and styles, three baby-doll night dresses with matching V-strings, a black push-up bustier with removable suspenders and stockings, a pink boxer and camisole set in the softest jersey cotton, and a short, black silk kimono-style robe.

I pick up one of the sheer baby-doll outfits. The white one. It has no back to it at all – just a bunch of tiny spider web-like straps that are accented with rhinestones. I shake my head in wonder. "What in the Hell were you thinking, Alice Brandon?" It's as if she's packed for a week-long honeymoon – not an overnight stay.

**({'}) **_I don't suppose Alice provided any rubber raincoats for my soon to be new best friend, El Capitán?_

I dig around in the bag to see if Alice managed to pack something practical, such as a few condoms, but no luck.

**({'}) **_Bummer…_

I decide it's best to dress for comfort rather than temptation, so I choose the jersey cotton set and the silk robe. Tomorrow, I'm going to give Alice a phone call, and we are going to have some words.

As I make my way across the lawn back to the car, I see Edward sitting on the tailgate. He is still shirtless, but now he's wearing a pair of navy-blue sleep pants. He takes my bag from me and stows it on the front seat. When he returns to me, he's holding one of the burgundy roses in his hand.

The radio is still playing, and the DJ announces it's midnight, and that she's signing off for the evening.

Handing me the rose, he smiles and says, "I believe I promised you some dancing tonight, Miss Swan." He offers his right hand to me, and I take it, smiling shyly.

"Why yes, I do believe you mentioned it," I reply formally and do a silly curtsy.

"Would you do me the honor of dancing this last song with me?" He kisses and then playfully bites the back of my hand as the first strains of the song begin to play.

I laugh and put the rose between my teeth as he takes my other hand and places it on his waist. We begin to slow dance as Elvis croons.

**_Please don't stop loving me_**  
><strong><em>You were born just to be <em>**  
><strong><em>In my arms<em>**  
><strong><em>In my arms<em>**  
><strong><em>Please don't stop loving me<em>**  
><strong><em>Your lips were made just to be <em>**  
><strong><em>Kissed by me<em>**  
><strong><em>Kissed by me<em>**

**_When I'm with you_**  
><strong><em>I don't know day from night, wrong from right<em>**  
><strong><em>You are my world, that's all I know<em>**  
><strong><em>I love you so, I won't let go<em>**

**_Please don't stop loving me_**  
><strong><em>Darling you'll always be <em>**  
><strong><em>Mine alone<em>**  
><strong><em>Mine alone<em>**

Edward was humming the tune close to my ear, but then he starts to sing along.

**_When I'm with you_**  
><strong><em>I don't know day from night, wrong from right<em>**  
><strong><em>You are my world, that's all I know<em>**  
><strong><em>I love you so, I won't let go<em>**

His voice is rich and beautiful, and it affects me profoundly. I take the rose out from between my teeth and throw my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around my waist, and our bodies sway gently as we hug each other. It feels as though we are the only two people on Earth, and nothing else in this life matters. I can feel tears beginning to well in my eyes.

**_Please don't stop loving me_**  
><strong><em>Darling you'll always be <em>**  
><strong><em>Mine alone<em>**  
><strong><em>Mine alone.<em>**

He kisses me deeply and then leads me to the back of the car. Again, we lay down on the mattress, and he spoons his body in behind mine before covering us with the blankets.

"Goodnight, Edward," I sigh.

"Goodnight, la mia bella donna." He places a gentle kiss against the shell of my ear.

I understand the meaning of the phrase - _My beautiful woman. _I close my eyes and smile.

The last thought that goes through my mind before sleep takes me over once again is… _I've well and truly fallen in love with Edward Cullen._

* * *

><p><strong>AN - You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly - by Lorretta Lynn & Conway Twitty.**

**- Please Don't Stop Loving Me – by Elvis Presley (This beautiful song deserves a listen. Makes me all teary eyed every time I hear it). ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/zB1Hrh **

****Just to give you an idea of how much room there is in the back of a CX90 ;)****

**- Edward's Volvo - Exterior and Interior - seats up.** ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)**ly/A38lVK **

**- Edward's Volvo - Interior - seats all down flat. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/wYAIRr  
><strong>

**(remove all brackets to get links to work)**

**B.O.B xxx  
><strong>


	117. Chapter 117

_**Saturday Morning... 23rd June.  
><strong>_

Before I even open my eyes, there are three things telling me it's morning.

Firstly, I can detect a dull, reddish glow as the light of the sun filters through the fine network of capillaries and the delicate membranes of my eyelids.

Secondly, there's the annoying repetitive caw-caw cawing of morning birdsong outside the Volvo, and that cawing sound can only mean one thing - crows. I seriously hate crows. In my opinion, they are both noisy and creepily smart… too smart. I blame my dad for allowing me to watch Alfred Hitchcock's movie 'The Birds' when I was a kid. It scarred me for life.

And thirdly, I have something warm, manly, and pleasantly hard, firmly pressed up against my ass, and it's something I haven't felt in a long, long time.

I soon realize, however, that Edward's morning wood isn't the only part of him touching me right now.

I open my eyes, look down and pull out the neckline of my camisole top.

While I was sleeping, his hand has somehow managed to find its way inside my robe and beneath the hem of my camisole. It is possessively attached to my left boob.

I shimmy my shoulders slightly to see whether it will cause his hand to move, but he just grunts and holds on tighter, giving my boob a couple of gentle squeezes in the process. He then thrusts his hard-on up against my ass.

I stifle a moan and suppress the urge to rub my ass against his cock.

"Edward?" I whisper. "Are you awake?"

He doesn't answer, and his deep, rhythmic breathing tells me that he is still asleep.

Curious to know the time, I raise my head slightly to look toward the dashboard of the car.

It's almost 8am.

As much as I would like to stay right here all day, warm and comfortable in his embrace, we need to head back to Esme's house, so I can make the chocolate cake for Emmett's welcome home lunch.

After carefully managing to extract his hand without waking him, I retrieve the house keys from the front-seat console and then tip toe my way across the cold, dew-covered lawn.

Once I'm back in the house, I answer the call of nature, brush my hair, and try to find some comfortable underwear in my travel bag. I'm hoping I missed seeing some boy shorts or even a pair of bikini cut panties last night.

Black thong.

White thong.

White strapless bra… for later.

Suspenders.

Baby doll. Baby doll. Baby doll.

Black bra.

Stockings.

Navy blue bra.

Hot pink bra.

Matching hot pink thong.

Navy thong.

Fuck it.

I give up.

"Jesus, Alice! Just because you like your panties to ride up your butt crack…" I whine out loud.

As I brush my teeth, I pull my phone out of my handbag and fire off a quick text to Alice.

_**Wondering why you packed my bag with so much impractical lingerie for just one night? FYI, some people don't like their panties to floss their ass, just sayin'! ~ Belly.**_

Alice is always an early riser on Saturdays (unlike me), so I'm not surprised her answering call is swift.

"Ali?"

"_Hmmm… Good morning to you too, grumpy bum. I'm guessing you didn't get laid last night." _

I can hardly hear Alice over the other sounds coming through the phone. It sounds as though she's in a crowded place.

"No, I didn't, but it certainly wasn't from lack of wanting."

"_Maybe you should have put on something sexy. I'll bet you wore the damn pink boxers and cami set, didn't you? You are so predictable, Swan." _

"Well, maybe if a certain _someone_ hadn't been kept in the dark about what was happening this weekend, I would have packed some helmets for the soldier. Then I would have had a reason to wear something sexy!"

"_Huh? I thought you hated condoms," _she says hissing into the phone. "_Didn't you used to have a diaphragm or something like that? I know you can't take the pill 'cause it makes you hurl, so I figured you would just pack your little white flying saucer while you were in the bathroom - if you know what I mean?" _

"If you must know, I quit using the diaphragm after my STD scare with Eric, and while I hate condoms, I've decided any guy who wants to have sex with me will have to put a thing on it until he puts a ring on it."

Alice laughs._ "So, Ed didn't have any helmets either? That's a bit irresponsible. Have you two had the conversation?"_

"Yes, we've had _the safety talk_. It's just turned out the condoms Edward brought were out of date, so we didn't take any chances."

"_What the fuck? Out of date? How long has it been since he's had sex? Oh my God! He's not a virgin, is he? Actually, don't answer that!" _

Through the phone, I hear a chime and a muffled announcement.

"_Belly, I gotta go. I had another dream, and were about to take off. Love you. Bye." _Alice hangs up abruptly.

What the Fuck?

I try to call her back, but it goes straight to voice mail, so I leave a message.

"Where are you going? Are you going to Atlantic City again? Does your dad know about this trip? Are you with anyone, and will I see you tomorrow morning at the center? Call me back as soon as you can, okay, and be careful."

Eyeing the array of lingerie scattered before me, I decide to put on a black bra and a matching thong, before covering myself with the silk robe once again.

Feeling incredibly thirsty, I walk to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water.

I open the refrigerator to look for a jug of water, but it is empty.

I look in the cupboards to find a glass, and I discover that apart from a mismatched dinner set, a stack of plastic cups and a basic set of pots and pans, most of them are empty too.

I grab a plastic cup and pour myself a drink from the filter tap.

When I return to the car, Edward is awake, and he's standing over by the hammock. He's got a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and he's gathering the clothing we were wearing last night. He must have hung them over the hammock to dry overnight before we had danced and then gone to sleep.

"Morning, beautiful," he says around his toothbrush as I approach him. He gives me a one-armed hug, and I kiss him on the neck.

He hands me my jeans and t-shirt, which feel cold and still slightly damp in places. They'll have to do until I can get back to Esme's house where I can shower and change into my new sun dress.

"Good morning. Hey, I was just in the house, and while I was getting some water I discovered the cupboards and refrigerator are practically empty. I thought you said Aro lived here."

"Nuh-uh." He shakes his head and continues cleaning his teeth. Once he's finished brushing he answers. "It's Aro's house, but he doesn't live here. It belonged to his parents, but his mother moved away two years ago after his father died. I think Aro said she moved back to Tuscany to live with her own mother. Anyway, he just lets people use the house as a place to stay, so we can pretty much come here anytime we want to; just as long as no one else is using it."

We turn and walk back toward the car.

"Oh, that's cool… I'd really like to come back sometime."

"How about next weekend? We could do as I had originally planned. I'd planned on sailing here from the marina, but because you are making the celebration cake, we would have needed to leave here much earlier this morning.

"We could sail next Friday after work and anchor over there, just offshore..." He points to a spot near the shore where the remains of a decrepit pontoon can be seen, "… and that way we can sleep on the boat. I promise it will be a hell of a lot more comfortable than the back of the car."

As if to drive his point home, he dumps his clothes on the open tailgate of the Volvo and rubs at his lower back. He arches and then side stretches.

Although, we both slept well, in the cold light of day, the thin foam mattress wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on. Edward couldn't even stretch his legs out fully.

"How long would it take to sail that distance?"

"Depending on the tides and the breeze, it should take about one to two hours. We can sail back to the marina on Saturday night, so you still get to work at the aquatic center in the morning."

I grin with excitement. "I'd love to."

I turn and take off my robe, so I can dress, completely forgetting my ass is fully on display until I hear Edward muttering something about me_ 'being the death of him_' under his breath.

I giggle, and as a diversion, I decide to ask him another question as I bend to step into my jeans. "Did Alice happen to mention anything to you about catching a plane today?"

His eyes don't leave my ass, and in my peripheral vision, I notice he's beginning to pitch an impressive sized tent in his sleep pants.

"Huh? Um… As far as I know, she was meant to be with Jazz. He was supposed to be flying in from L.A. sometime around eight last night. Why?" he asks, as we both pull on our t-shirts.

"I just spoke with Alice, and she told me that she was about to take off somewhere. I called back to ask her where she was going, but she's turned her phone off. Did she mention any other plans to you? Do you know if Jazz is with her now?"

"Nope. I have no idea what the two of them have planned for this weekend. Jazz was meant to be staying at Mum's house last night, so we can ask him what happened when we get home."

Edward shakes his head in disgust as he holds up his jeans. They appear too wet for wearing during the forty minute drive home – they would be extremely uncomfortable… especially for someone going commando.

Balling up the wet denim, he throws the jeans into the back of the Volvo, opting instead to drive home wearing his thin, cotton sleep pants that leave little to the imagination.

**({'})** _Road head, anyone? It would be so easy._

I was wondering when Libby was going to add her two cents this morning. I figured she would stop bitching if she was getting orgasms… but no.

Road head?

No way.

As fun as that sounds, we'd probably crash and die.

**({'})** _Just imagine the autopsy report – brain skewered by dick._

In fact, I just hope Edward sticks to the speed limit, so we don't get pulled over by a police patrol. It would be typical of my fucked-up luck to get pulled over by someone like Seth Clearwater, and then my dad would probably hear about how Edward was driving around with a pole in his pajamas.

After packing up the bedding and the cooler box, we get into the front seats and drive away from Gallagher Cove.

I can't wait to come back here next weekend.

When we hit the highway, he grins and asks, "So, are you ready to face a whole day with my family?"

"You make it sound like torture. Am I to expect the Spanish Inquisition?"

He snickers. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

"Well, as long as there are soft cushions, a comfy chair, and they don't tie a dish rack to my chest; I think I'll be just fine."

He roars in laughter. "You know what I love about you, Bella? You never do or say what I expect."

**({'})** _Did you hear that? _

What?

**({'})** _He said the 'L' word!_

My heart flutters nervously.

Yeah… he did… but I really don't think he meant it in _that_ way.

Right?

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Any fan of Monty Python humor will understand the 'Spanish Inquisition' references. You can watch them on YouTube if you are unfamiliar with them.**


	118. Chapter 118

**Saturday Afternoon…**

"I imagine it must be terribly exciting for you. I'll bet you never thought you'd become a big sister at this stage of your life. So when is the baby due?" Esme asks as we carry the cups, plates and dessert forks into the living room.

"Around New Year's Day, apparently."

"Well, wouldn't it be something to have a baby born on the first day of the new year. Rosie's baby is due on Christmas Eve, but if the latest edition is anything like Milly, she'll be in a hurry. I've got bets she'll deliver early."

"Who says it's going to be a girl? We don't know the gender yet, and we're keeping it that way. Isn't that right, babe?" Emmett looks pointedly at Rosalie.

She rolls her eyes and huffs, "Party pooper," from her place on the large, single leather recliner chair. She winces slightly and then changes position.

Esme arranges the cups and saucers on the coffee table. "Can you keep an eye on the clock for me, Carlisle love? I need to leave here by two to get to work in time for the staff meeting."

I glance at my own watch while I'm bending over the table and slicing the cake into twelve pieces. It's already 1:30pm. So far, the day has flown by. Esme and I move harmoniously around the coffee table as I serve the cake, and she pours the coffee.

After our barbeque lunch, we had decided to move indoors to the living room. It was becoming too hot for Rosalie to sit outside in the July sun, and I could feel I was starting to burn.

"Speaking of Christmas, what does your family normally do on the day?" Esme asks as she hands Edward his coffee. I hand out the plates of my decadent masterpiece to Emmett, Carlisle, and Rosalie. I take my place on the three-seater sofa to the left of Edward and hand him his own plate while mine balances on my lap. With the coffee poured, Esme then picks up her plate and spoon, and she sits on Edward's right.

Carlisle and Emmett are sitting opposite us on the two-seater sofa, and Milly is still sleeping soundly in her bedroom having already slept right through lunch.

Rosalie said Milly had been awake half the night whining and grabbing at her ear. An ear infection had already been ruled out, so it was put down to teething problems.

Surprisingly, or not… Jazz never arrived at Esme and Carlisle's; instead, he'd left a cryptic message on their answering machine about meeting someone.

Alice still hasn't called me back.

Coincidence?

I think not…

"Normally I'd spend Christmas morning with my dad and then after lunch, we head over to the Brandon's for dinner and drinks. Alice's dad puts on a spread for any relatives or friends who have nothing else to do Christmas night. However, this year, I'll probably be in Australia, spending the day with my mom and her boyfriend. I don't know if Edward has mentioned it, but I'm speaking at a conference in Sydney the week beforehand."

I thought the conference in Sydney would be a rare opportunity for me to spend Christmas with Renee. When I'd told Edward, during one of our phone conversations last week, he was quite supportive of the idea. However, when I'd called Renee the next day about my plans, she seemed a little cagey, which was odd.

"Yes, he did mention you were going to Sydney. You know, before the car accident, and discovering Rosie's due date, Carlisle and I had plans to go to Sydney at Christmas time, too. Alec, a friend of ours from back home, races his yacht in the Rolex Sydney Hobart race most years, and this year Carlisle was going to be a grinder."

"A grinder? What's a grinder?"

Carlisle speaks up. "A grinder is the person whose job it is to use the winches to pull in, let out, haul up or bring down the sails. It's the most physically demanding position on a yacht, especially in a race like the Sydney Hobart. The race takes from two to four days, depending on the speed of the boat and the weather."

"You know what? I think you should take up Carlisle's place," Esme says offhandedly and then looks at Edward.

"What?" he replies as he helps himself to a second piece of cake. I must have blinked when he managed to inhale the first slice.

"Carlisle was speaking to Alec on the phone just last week, and Alec said they still haven't chosen anyone to take his place. If Bella's going to be in Sydney for Christmas, you could join her after the conference, and then you'd be able to help crew the yacht. The race starts on Boxing Day." Esme looks past Edward to me. "When do you plan on leaving Sydney?"

"Um… not sure at this stage, it depends on how much leave I can take over the holidays."

"Mum!" Edward says uncomfortably.

"Bella could see you off at the docks and then fly to Hobart to meet you at the other end." Esme continues excitedly. "Then you could fly back to Sydney and watch the fireworks display from Circular Quay. I hear it's quite the spectacular."

"Knock it off, Mum. That's five months away. It's a bit soon to be making joint plans that far in advance, don't you think? We've only been together a week…"

The idea of spending Christmas and New Year's with Edward sounds perfect to me, but he's right. It is still early days.

He looks at me apologetically, and we all go back to eating the cake. There are murmurs of appreciation from everyone, and since I gave Esme and Rosalie the recipe, they both vow to make it for their husbands in the future.

Emmett and Carlisle both help themselves to another piece, and Edward looks as though he's thinking about thirds. He's eyeing each of us girls, as if silently asking if we are going to eat the three remaining pieces.

"I'm just saying it would be a good opportunity for you to get the sailing adventure you've always wanted under your belt, especially as you didn't get to sail the Mediterranean or cross the Atlantic as you had planned before the accident."

He looks at his mom and sighs. "If I say I'll think about it, will it get you off my case?"

Esme beams and looks over at me. Carlisle just chuckles and shakes his head.

I have a feeling Esme would marry off her son tomorrow given half the chance. All morning Esme has been gushing excitedly because he'd finally brought a girl around to meet the whole family, even though I'd previously met them all.

Right now, her behavior is adorable, but I just hope she doesn't turn into a monster-in-law later down the track.

"Um… speaking of the car accident," I say with trepidation, "Alice told me there was a tragedy. She said someone died. Was it the other driver?"

The Cullens all look at each other, confused.

Suddenly, Emmett seems to have an epiphany of some sort, and he rolls his eyes before snickering.

Carlisle seems to reach the same conclusion because he just smiles, shakes his head, and then mouths something to Esme before concentrating on devouring his cake.

Esme places her hand over her mouth and she looks as though she is trying to find the right words to say.

Edward just looks longingly at what is left of the cake on the coffee table.

"Will you guys just tell her already?" Rosalie chastises testily and then closes her eyes for a moment. She looks tired and irritable.

Esme explains, "My dear, I think your friend might have misunderstood the situation, because the other driver managed to walk away from the accident with only one or two bruises… unlike those two attention seekers over there." She motions her hand at Emmett and Carlisle. "It was the poor old black bear that died. It had to be euthanized after being struck by both cars."

Carlisle stands and then moves to position himself behind the sofa. He then puts a hand on his son-in-law's shoulder. Raising his coffee cup to chest height, he looks down at Emmett fondly.

"Emmett… you gave us all a hell of a scare, lad, but I think I'm right in saying that we're all thrilled you are finally home with us, alive and well. As you adjust to being home, I want you to know that Esme and I will always be here for you should you ever need us… that goes for both of you," he says, looking over to Rosalie.

Esme speaks up. "If there is a silver lining to this difficult chapter in our lives, it is that the unfortunate accident forced Rosie and Milly to come to Washington to live, and our family is together again. It also made Rosie finally admit to herself what the rest of us could plainly see. Emmett and Rosie, the two of you are so right for each other, and Carlisle and I look forward to giving you a proper wedding celebration as soon as you feeling able. Welcome home, Son."

"Hear, hear," Carlisle says raising his coffee cup to Emmett, and we all follow his lead.

Edward is still looking longingly at the cake, and Esme takes pity on him by scooping up a piece and dumping it on his plate. She ruffles his hair, and he grins back at her. "Thanks, Mum."

"Make the most of it. If you're going to race the Sydney Hobart, you'll have to get in some serious fitness training and start eating properly. Starting tomorrow, you better start cutting back on the chocolate," she says, pinching his cheek.

He swats her hand away playfully and everyone laughs.

Esme adds, "You'll need a haircut, too. You're beginning to look like a hippy."

"I am not," he retorts defensively as he runs a hand over his hair. "You're just used to seeing me with a buzz cut most of the time. Now quit nagging me, old woman."

"If you live under my roof, I get nagging rights." Esme turns sideways and plonks her bare feet on his lap." She looks at me and winks mischievously." Now be a good boy and rub your old mother's achy feet." It's clear she loves winding up her son, and I snicker.

Edward takes the bait. "Do you mind? I'm trying to eat here. And besides… I think I've found a solution which will mean I could be permanently out of your hair."

"What do you mean?" Suddenly, Esme looks crestfallen.

"Just an idea I had this morning, but I need to run it by someone first."

Esme looks to me as if I might hold the answers, but I don't have a clue. She then starts in on Edward again, but he's smiling enigmatically, refusing to elaborate.

**({'})** _Maybe Edward could move in with us?_

Uh-uh.

Too soon.

I'm not going to make the same mistake I made with Eric.

Emmett then speaks up, to rescue Edward from Esme's badgering antics. "Hey, Ed… speaking of getting fit, if you need somewhere to train, Rosie has set up some gym equipment in the basement of our house, so I can build up my strength again. I'd love to have a workout partner to spot for me and keep me motivated, so you're welcome to come over any time you want."

"Yeah? That's sounds great-"

Suddenly, Rosalie, who has been relatively quiet throughout lunch, winces and then struggles to get up from the recliner. She dashes out of the living room, heading in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. Her hand is clutching at her side.

"Rosie?" Emmett calls out after her. He starts to get off the sofa but knocks over his walking stick in his haste. "Rosie. Are you okay, babe?" he yells.

Esme quickly stands and hands Emmett his stick. He hobbles away awkwardly to find his wife with Esme following behind him.

I look from Edward to Carlisle, and they appear concerned.

After a minute, Esme reappears. She grabs a set of keys from a hook near the kitchen door, and then she tosses them to her husband.

"Carlisle. Start the car."


	119. Chapter 119

"Edward, help me get Rosie to the car. Bella, can you please get me the bucket from under the sink?" Esme calls over her shoulder as she heads in the direction of the bathroom.

Carlisle puts his shoes on and leaves the house to start the car. Edward makes his way to the bathroom as I move toward the kitchen. I walk directly to the sink, and on opening the cupboard, I find a red plastic bucket.

Esme appears in the doorway holding some towels, just ahead of Edward, who is carrying a disheveled looking Rosalie in his arms.

She appears pale, and her forehead is beaded with sweat.

I can detect the unmistakable scent of '_eau de vomit_' in the air.

"Here take this." I pass the bucket to Emmett, who is hobbling along behind Edward.

"I'm so sorry, Mum. I didn't mean to- Oh… I made such a mess all over the floor," Rosalie sobs. She then cries out and clutches at her side again. "Bucket!"

Emmett manages to position the bucket under Rosalie's chin before she wretches once again. As soon as the spasms stop, Edward continues toward the front door.

"It's alright, love. Messes can be cleaned. That's not important right now," Esme says soothingly as she walks alongside Edward and wipes Rosalie's face with the towel.

After a minute, Esme and Edward re-enter the house, and he walks to the wash room to fetch a mop, bucket and disinfectant to clean the bathroom floor, while Esme heads off to her bedroom to get ready for work.

I'm clearing the last of the dirty dishes from the coffee table, when they reappear in the living room. Finding her shoes next to the sofa, Esme first hops on one leg and then the other to put them on.

Addressing Edward, she says, "I'm going to head to The Broho to open up, and then if I need to, I'll go to the hospital. Otherwise, if it's not too serious, I'll stay at work, because I honestly need to be there for the staff meeting, and the new assistant manager isn't quite up-to-speed with some of the security protocols we've implemented since last weekend. Can you please stay here and look after Milly until one of us gets home?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Edward looks at me, and I nod in agreement. He gives me a warm smile in return before grimacing and looking down to the front of his vomit splashed shirt. "Um… I'm just going to shower and get changed. See ya, Mum." He gives Esme a quick peck on the cheek and then heads for the wash room, unbuttoning his shirt as he leaves.

"Well, I do hope we can do this again sometime soon; minus the drama, of course," Esme says trying to be upbeat as she lifts her handbag off the hallstand hook. She briefly checks her reflection in the mirror.

"Thanks for having me, Mrs. Cullen. I hope Rosalie and the baby are going to be okay."

Esme walks over and takes hold of my hand in a motherly gesture. "I'm sure they'll be just fine… and please, call me Esme; everyone does - except for Edward, of course." Suddenly, a look of realization passes over her features, and she begins to tear up. "Oh..."

"What's wrong?"

"Rosie called me 'Mom.' She's never done that before." She blinks the tears back and smiles briefly. "Well, I must run, or else I'll be late. Bye, Bella. It's been lovely spending time with you and getting to know you a little better. My boy has never seemed happier. Thank you."

Esme gives me a hug and then she leaves for work. Her face is a portrait of conflict, as though she is torn between family and work; love and duty.

It is when Esme closes the front door that I reflect on how much I missed having a mom to hug me when I was growing up.

-oo0oo-

_"Ded-ded-ded-ded-ded." _

The sounds are coming over the baby monitor as I remove the clean dishes from the dishwasher before refilling it with dirty ones from lunch.

"_Oh… you're awake. You were being awfully quiet- Ohhh, Milly!"_

_"Ded-ded-ded-ded."_

"_Don't you 'Ded-ded-ded' me! Look what you did. Arrgh. Gimme that!"_

"_Nan-nan-nan-nan-nan."_

I giggle and wonder what mischief Miss Milly has gotten herself into.

"_Bugger it. I'll have to put them in the washer. Now come back here and let me check yer bum…"_

"_Nan-nan-nan-nan."_

"_Keep still… keep still... Quit it… Will you stop your bloody wriggling? Goddamn it, Milly. You're like a little octopus."_

Milly giggles, and then Edward laughs._ "Here, you. Hold this."_

_"Ded-ded-ded-ded-ded."_

"_Phew. At least it's not a stinky one this time."_

There is radio silence for a minute before he lets out a triumphant, "_Done_!"

I'm wiping down the countertops when he appears in the kitchen. He's holding Milly on his hip, and when our eyes meet, he smiles at me, but then he suddenly wrinkles his nose in disgust when Milly noisily fills her clean diaper.

He turns to look at Milly with an expression of incredulity.

"Oh, no you didn't…"

Milly grins and then kicks her legs excitedly, before patting him on the cheek. _"_Ded-ded-ded-ded-ded."

He rolls his eyes and turns around, heading in the direction he just came from.

Through the monitor, I hear him grumble, _"You're just lucky Uncle Eddie thinks you're cute; even if you are li'l stinker."_ I hear the sound of Edward blowing a raspberry, and Milly giggling and shrieking.

-oo0oo-

"Well that's excellent news – sort of…" Edward is speaking to Carlisle on the phone. "Yeah… Milly is great. She's been fed and watered, and I think I even managed to get some of it into her mouth," he jokes.

He looks down at his formally pure white t-shirt and shakes his head in wonder at the colorful sprays of mashed pumpkin, pureed peas, creamed corn, and yogurt. His t-shirt now resembles a piece of Jackson Pollock art work.

I'd suggested that next time he attempts to feed Milly, he might want to borrow my dad's riot shield and helmet for protection.

The rest of his shirts are in the dryer at the moment. We're just waiting for his load of laundry to finish, and then we'll venture out of the house for a while.

"Okay, keep me informed, and tell Rosie and Em not to worry about Milly."

It sounds as though they will be at the hospital for a while.

"Actually, I was thinking of taking Milly for a drive or maybe a walk around the park or something. She hasn't been out of the house all day."

**({'}) **_Maybe we could stop home on the way? I need to get into a pair of comfortable panties – STAT! I can't handle this perma-wedgie sensation for much longer. I swear this thong is giving me the equivalent of a headband headache. _

I surreptitiously try to adjust my panties while Edward isn't looking; but of course, a thong is to a butt crack, as a magnet is to a refrigerator door.

**({'}) **_Are you absolutely sure you didn't put this thing on backwards or sideways? It wouldn't be the first time, ya know…_

Don't judge me.

My previous nether-wear malfunctions had occurred under extenuating circumstances. The first time it happened, I was quickly redressing in the dark after losing my virginity to Randall, and the second time, I was still as drunk as a skunk the morning after Alice had introduced me to the evil known as _Jägermeister_ when we were celebrating her Blackjack win and tattoo in Atlantic City. We were running late, and we had a plane to catch - that's my excuse, anyway.

**({'}) **_Speaking of Alice, maybe you should try and call her again._

In the last two hours, I've tried to call her every fifteen minutes.

It goes straight to voice mail, and there's been no reply.

"… Right, good idea. Anyway, give our love to Rosie, and I hope the drugs start kicking in soon. Okay. Bye."

"So is everything all right with Rosie and the baby?" I'm bending over and holding onto Milly under her arms as she toddles unsteadily towards 'Cullen-Swan Tower' once more.

While waiting for the dryer to finish, the three of us have been playing on the floor together. Edward and I have been erecting some colorful plastic stacking cups, taking it in turns to rebuild the tower. Once all eleven cups are standing to the height of my shoulders, we release Milly, the wild bulldozer baby, to unleash her brand of chaos and destruction.

Milly is amusing to watch as she gleefully swipes her hands at the tower, sending the cups crashing to the ground before falling backwards onto her cloth diaper-padded butt.

At one point, I had pretended to be sad about the tower falling down. Milly had crawled over to me and given me her version of comfort, which was to suck sloppily on my cheek and then squeal, 'Ded-ded-ded-ded,' which Edward informs me is her happy sound, whereas, 'Nan-nan-nan-nan,' means the exact opposite.

"The baby's okay, but Rosie's got a kidney stone. They've done a scan, and the Urologist reckons it is small enough that she'll pass it, but she's in a lot of pain. They're keeping her in the E.R. for a while to give her fluids and pain relief to keep her comfortable until it passes."

"My dad had a kidney stone a few years ago, and during the worst of it, he rang me to ask if I could come to the hospital with his police revolver, so I could shoot him in the head to put him out of his misery. They say passing a kidney stone is worse than labor."

"It must be bad then. Rosie gave birth to Milly drug-free and barely complained, whereas Carlisle says she's begging for more pain relief even though they've administered as much as they can safely give her."

He chases after Milly as she starts crawling towards the kitchen. Edward then begins to tickle her as I gather the stacking cups to rebuild the tower.

"So… Carlisle says he is going to stay at the hospital for a bit longer, and then he's going to head over to The Broho to help Mum out for a while. Unless Rosie gets out of hospital tonight, no one will be home until two in the morning, which means I'll be looking after this cheeky monkey for the rest of the day and night. Um… do you want to stay here with me tonight? I can drive you to work in the morning."

"Will Esme and Carlisle be okay if I stay here overnight?"

He laughs. "Carlisle was the one who suggested it in the first place. I may be living under their roof part-time, but Mum and Carlisle respect that I'm an adult. Hell! It was Carlisle who gave me my first pack of condoms when I was almost sixteen."

**({'})** _What the-?_

My hand freezes as I'm about to stack the last cup, and I turn to look at him. "Oh my God, you lost your virginity when you were only fifteen?"

Milly is trying to push her fingers into his mouth, and up his nose, so it takes him a moment to respond.

"No! I was eighteen... I just said Carlisle gave me condoms when I was fifteen. When he realized how serious Paul and Rosie were about each other, he wasn't thrilled about the situation, but he was realistic. So one day, he sat me and Paul down, handed us some condoms and gave us a stern lecture on being responsible and treating women with respect.

"Mum was thankful I had a father-figure like Carlisle to look out for me, but Paul's dad, Colin, flipped his shit when he found out where the condoms came from. Carlisle then had to remind him that out of the two of them, it would be _his_ daughter who would have a baby if their kids weren't being careful. Carlisle just wanted the three of us to stay out of trouble and finish our schooling, so we could go on to have the careers we wanted instead of having to settle for whatever we could get."

"I guess it's kind of ironic when you think about it - that only two years later it would be impossible for them."

"Yeah… who knew? So… back to my question. Do you want to stay here with me tonight? Once Milly is in bed we could take a late night swim in the pool or get into the Jacuzzi," he says seductively.

"I think you better take me home." He looks at me with an expression of disappointment. I quickly decide to let him off the hook, and I give him a wink, "…So I can get my swim suit."

"Could I talk you into skinny dipping?" He waggles his eyebrows.

"You could try, but I'd probably get into trouble with the boss."

He initially appears confused but soon realizes I'm talking about needing a swim suit for work in the morning. "Yeah, in that case, it wouldn't be a great idea to swim in the nude. I've already been thrown out of the aquatic center once for being an over-protective idiot. No need to add jealous arsehole to my list of bad boyfriend traits."

Edward releases Milly, who barrels along headfirst toward the tower of colorful cups as we cheer and clap our hands.

_Crash._

-oo0oo-

I'm in my bedroom searching for something comfortable to wear when I hear noises coming from the living room.

_Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang._

"Milly?"

_Bang bang bang._

"No, Milly! No! Gimme that!"

"Nan-nan-nan-nan."

_Bang crash._

"Shit…"

There is a measure of silence before Edward calls out for me. "Um… Bella? Can you come here for a sec, please?"

I dash into the living room and notice he is holding some items in his hands.

One of those items is a Wii remote. It looks intact, thanks to its rubbery cover.

However, the thing he's holding in his other hand appears to be broken; its battery cover has snapped in two.

He looks at me sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I swear I just turned my back for a moment to put some water in her bottle, and she must have opened the drawer."

I look at the coffee table.

Its drawer is open wide.

**({'})** Noooooo_!_

"Is this what I…er… think it is… or was?" he asks. His eyebrow is cocked at me mischievously.

I nod and blush profusely.

I can only nod because in this moment, I'm utterly speechless and mortified.

"So it's not a phallic shaped foot massager."

I shake my head and bite my bottom lip.

**({'}) ***_sob_*

Libby starts to sing verses from "Goodbye My Lover" and "Someone Like You" that are oddly appropriate at conveying her grief at losing our BOB.

He walks toward me and places the broken pieces of my vibrator into my hands.

"So, tell me…" he begins, trying to control his smirk, "…is it a Swan family tradition to leave your sex toys in the living room for the visitors to find?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Now let us bow our heads and offer a prayer that BOB (Battery Operated Boyfriend) can be fixed.  
><strong>

**Goodbye My Lover – by James Blunt.**

**Someone Like You – by Adele.**

******B.O.B. xxx******


	120. Chapter 120

After Edward's jibe about Swan family traits concerning wayward storage methods for sex toys, I roll my eyes.

He just snickers.

Damn sexy bastard.

"You are such a fu-" I start to curse, but then I remember Milly is in the room. "You are such a freakin' smart A.S.S!" I hiss, but he continues to laugh at me. I glance down at the pieces of BOB and sigh. "Can it be repaired?" I look up at Edward and beg him with my eyes to fix it.

He stops laughing and takes the three pieces of the vibrator from my hands. Turning them over in his fingers, he examines them carefully before shaking his head. "I could try, but seriously, it's just not worth it. Trying to repair it would be like taking a dead pet mouse to the vet to be revived - pointless. Can't I just buy you a new one? One that looks a bit less… boring?"

**({'}) **_*gasp*__ You take that back Edward Cullen! _

I give him the bitch-brow, although he has a very valid point.

BOB is white, made of cold, hard plastic, and lacks all the bells and whistles that come with most modern and more expensive vibes.

He chews through batteries like no one's business and only has two settings - off and _yippee_.

Admittedly, BOB is… _was_… a bit plain and boring to look at.

**({'}) **_That's blasphemy! *sob* You are dead to me, Swan._

Even so, the idea of having to buy another vibrator makes me want to hyperventilate and break into a cold sweat.

"But I thought all you G.I. Joe types were meant to be able to MacGyver things together with a Swiss Army knife and black duct tape," I whine.

"Why are you so attached to this thing? Don't you have like a dozen or so toys lying around among the sofa cushions?" He smirks again before continuing to besmirch B.O.B. "You know… this one looks as though it's old enough to have arrived with The Mayflower. How long have you had it? Was it a family heirloom?" He laughs again.

I snatch the pieces of BOB out of his hands. "Oh, ha-ha. Very funny. And no, I don't have any other toys."

"Really? Are you serious?" His expression quickly changes from one of amusement, to guilt, before settling on incredulous curiosity. "Why not?"

"_Idon'twannatalkaboutit_," I quickly mumble.

Blushing, I turn around on my heel and stomp towards the kitchen.

He follows me and watches on solemnly as the swing-top lid rocks to and fro after I violently deposit each piece of the broken vibrator into the trash can.

**({'}) **_I'll miss you my old friend. I promise I'll never forget you, and I'm sorry I rejected you last week. I should have told you that I loved you… *sob* _

**({'})**_ You deserve so much better than the trash for your final resting place._

**({'}) **_Did you ever *sob* know that you're my heee-ro… _

Oh. Dear. God.

Libby has started singing a Bette Midler song from 'Beaches,' and I fucking hate that song.

Edward is still looking at me expectantly. "Please, tell me? I swear I won't laugh."

I fold my arms protectively across my chest, as if to create a physical buffer against his questions. "Let's just say I suffered through some major post-purchase trauma thanks to Amazon dot com."

He raises his eyebrows as if he expects me to spill my guts, but I don't say anything. He moves towards me and wraps his arms around my waist to draw me in close to him.

"Come on, I'm listening," he says soothingly while rubbing my back. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

I will not cave.

I will not cave.

I will not cave.

"I'm not telling," I mumble into his chest.

"Pretty-please?" He pulls back and attempts to look at me without smirking. He opts to pout playfully instead, and I try not to smile or give in.

I will not cave.

Trying to be stern, I point a finger at his lips. "Pouting will not break me down."

He surprises me by taking my finger into his mouth and biting down gently between the first and second knuckle. His tongue then swirls and massages my forefinger suggestively.

My pulse races and my knees become weak.

**({'}) **_Okay, I forgive you. Ungh… and she'll tell you anything you want. Mercy. *gurgle*_

Sweet Jesus.

I swear that tongue of his needs to be registered as a deadly weapon.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" I say breathily, marveling at how he seems to find a new erogenous zone every time he is near me.

"Nut a shance in Hell," he says as his front teeth continue to gently grip my deliriously distracted digit.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you…" I sigh as if in defeat. He grins in victory and releases me; however, I turn and yell over my shoulder, "one day… maybe."

I laugh and shriek as he chases me down the the hallway. Back in my bedroom, I hurriedly lock the door behind me.

He taps on my door. "You know - I could always make you. Come on, lem'me in," he whines petulantly.

I giggle and then yell through the door, "You should watch Milly while I pack my bag. If she finds my porn DVDs in the TV cabinet, she'll be scarred for life." I listen to his rapidly retreating footsteps.

Feeling somewhat out of breath, I quickly change out of the crack-flossing g-string I've been wearing, into a comfortable pair of white, lacy boy-shorts.

**({'}) **_*sigh*_

It is while I am searching through my drawer for my swim suit, I hear him laugh and then shout out, "Oh, very funny, woman! There's no porn in here!"

-oo0oo-

_**Saturday 6.30pm - Back at the Cullen house…**_

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, feeding Milly her dinner, while Edward is raiding the refrigerator for the ingredients he needs.

"I'm waiting…" He stares at me expectantly as he places a package of ground beef onto the countertop.

I promised to tell him about the traumatic circumstances regarding BOB's purchase.

Yeah… don't judge me.

I know; I know. I caved like a damn sand castle at high tide.

So fucking sue me.

I have many weaknesses, and Mexican food happens to be one of them.

I'm only telling him this because he promised to make his '_World Famous_' Tacos for dinner.

"Okay…," I begin, as I tip another spoonful of pureed carrots into Milly's waiting maw, "…once upon a time, there was a lonely, horny, but painfully shy, twenty-one-year-old virgin. In an effort to be independent, she was living in a large co-ed residence with eight other people while studying for her degree. One particularly harrowing night, as she endured the duel thumping headboards and porn-like moans that transmitted through the paper-thin walls from the rooms on either side of her bedroom, she made the foolish mistake of ordering a vibrator online from Amazon."

"Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?"

"I have no idea."

He walks into the pantry. "Don't stop. I'm still listening," he calls out.

"So, one afternoon while I was working at the aquatic center, a delivery person left a plain, brown paper parcel on the front doorstep. Unfortunately, the address/ invoice page inside the parcel had moved, which meant the words '_7 1/2 inch waterproof_ _personal vibrator_' could clearly be seen in the see-through address window by _all_ of my housemates."

"I take it that included the guys."

I nod, and he lets out a laugh even though he promised not to. It's that devilishly, dirty laugh of his that I love, so I don't feel any anger towards him. In fact, it makes me smile.

"My house mates - especially the guys - gave me shit for weeks and weeks about the vibrator. Whenever I smiled or came out of the shower, they made fun of me, saying I suddenly seemed less uptight. The thing is… I didn't even dare to use the vibe until I was twenty-three. And that was after I'd lost my V-card, had broken up with Randall, and then moved into a place of my own!

"For all of Amazon's promises of discrete packaging, the freakin' vibe may as well have been hand-delivered to the house by a guy wearing a gimp suit, driving a van emblazoned with "Dildos 'R' Us" on its side, with an oversized inflatable dick on its roof!"

He laughs again and shakes his head at my diatribe. I think I even see him wipe a tear with the back of his hand.

"So, yeah… that was nearly ten years ago, and since then I haven't been game enough to buy anything more… erm… _exotic_ through an online website."

Milly yawns as I scoop up the last of the pureed chicken and pasta from her bowl. I'm feeling pretty smug that not a single spray or splatter of food has been returned in my direction at high velocity. I guess I'm just lucky she's tired.

As I feed Milly the last spoonful, I look over at Edward and notice he is packing the ingredients back into the refrigerator.

"What are you doing?"

"We're out of cheese and taco sauce." He pulls out his phone and begins to text someone. "I'll bath Milly and get her ready for bed, then head to the store."

-oo0oo-

_**Thirty minutes later…**_

"Come on," Edward urges.

I balk on the porch steps as he tries to pull me towards the car.

"Edward, Milly is a baby. We can't just leave her on her own, even if she is sleeping," I hiss.

I can't believe he's contemplating leaving a baby at home without supervision. This is madness. We'll be arrested for child endangerment or neglect.

"Well, of course not," he says nonchalantly while unlocking the doors of the Volvo with the key remote. There is an audible click of the locking mechanism, and the indicator lights flash on and off.

My voice is rising in pitch. "Then why are we _both_ going to the store? Someone needs to stay behind with Milly."

Just then a spritely, gray-haired woman who looks to be in her late fifties appears at the front gate.

"Hi. Thanks for coming over at such short notice. I hope we're not inconveniencing you."

"Not at all, sweetie," the woman replies as she walks towards us. "You know I don't mind helping out."

As soon as she stands at the top of the porch steps, Edward introduces us. "Mrs. Cope, this is Bella, my girlfriend. Bella, this is Shelly Cope; our next-door neighbor."

The woman looks at me and smiles. "Hi, Bella."

"Hello," I reply sheepishly and mentally smack myself upside the head. I am such an idiot to think he would ever be so irresponsible where Milly is concerned.

"There's nothing to be done except to listen out for Milly, in case she wakes. She's asleep in her crib, and the baby monitor is on the coffee table next to the TV remote. We should only be gone for an hour at the most, unless Emmett and Rosie need to be picked up from the hospital, but that's unlikely."

An hour? Aren't we just buying some cheddar cheese and taco sauce? Why will it take an hour? Are we making the damn cheese ourselves?

"Okay, dears. I'll see you when you return." With that, Mrs. Cope opens the front door and walks inside.

-oo0oo-

"Where are we heading?"

We've been driving for nearly twenty minutes. A few more turns and we'll almost be back at my house.

"Safeway," he says turning left onto Martin Way East.

"We've passed by three grocery stores already. What's so special about the cheese and taco sauce at Safeway?"

"Hmm? Oh… nothing," he replies distractedly. He's staring past me at something on the other side of the road.

I turn to look, but see nothing of interest.

He drives into the parking lot of Safeway and finds a space near the main entrance. We are just about to get out of the car when my phone starts playing Beyonce's '_Single Ladies'_.

"It's Alice," I say looking to Edward. "I'm gonna take this call, okay?"

He nods and walks off in the direction of the store while I stay in my seat.

"Ali?"

"_Hey, Belly!"_

"Where in the Hell are you? I've been calling you all day! Are you okay?"

"_Chillax, Mom! I'm fine, and I'm in Vegas with Jazzy. We're staying at the Excalibur Hotel and Casino. Oh my God, Belly, you should see this place. It looks just like a fairytale castle on the outside. As soon as I saw this place, it made me want to dress up like a Disney princess."_

"Please tell me that you didn't get married."

"_Of course not! I told you this morning I had another dream, so I'm here to play the slots. I'm just waiting for the right time to go down to the casino."_

"I guess that means you won't be at work in the morning."

"_No, I won't, but Jake will be taking my groups."_

In the background, I hear the sound of a door closing. "_Hey baby, I got tickets to the revue show you wanted to see while we're waiting for your spidey senses to kick in, but we gotta go now." _It's Jasper's voice.

"_I'm on the phone with Bella. Here… say hello to her while I get my purse."_

"_Hi, Bella Marie, is that cousin of mine treating you right?"_

"Hi, Jazz, and he is treating me well… that is, when he's not teasing me. By the way, you should know Rosie is back in the hospital."

"_Shit! Is she okay? Is it the baby again?"_

"No, the baby is healthy. It's a kidney stone this time. Rosie is in a lot of pain though."

"_Ew. That sounds like fun… Not! When you hear from her next, tell her that I'm thinking of her."_

"Will do."

"_I'll hand you back to Ali. Bye now."_

"Bye... and Jazz?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Don't let Ali do anything stupid this weekend… like getting facially tattooed or genitally pierced."

Jasper coughs nervously before collecting himself._ "I'm not making any promises. You know she has a mind of her own. Anyway, we've got to go. Here's Ali."_

"_Belly, I have to go now. I'm off to ogle some hot Aussie male strippers, so I'll see you when I see you. Have fun for the rest of the weekend, and make sure you buy some helmets."_ Alice giggles. _"Bye. Love you."_

Just then Edward opens the driver-side door and slides into the seat.

"Bye, Ali." I disconnect the call.

"Is everything okay with Alice? he asks as he tosses a bag of groceries down by my feet.

"Yeah, she's with Jazz, and they're about to watch some male revue show in Vegas. Although, I can't believe how Jazz was so easy going about it. I thought only women went to those sorts of things. Wouldn't most guys find that kind of show a bit weird to watch?"

**({'})** _What would you know? You've never seen one either._

He laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"Next time you see Jazz, do me a favor and ask him about the job he had while he was studying sound engineering and producing, back before his band got signed; when all he wanted to be was the next Butch Vig."

"You're kidding me."

**({'}) **_Alice is one lucky bitch._

He shakes his head. "Jazz used to dress up as a cowboy, and on Friday and Saturday nights he stripped at bachelorette shows and women's 21st birthday parties. It paid quite well."

He starts the car, and we head out of the parking lot turning right onto Martin Way East.

"How long did he do that for? The stripping."

"A couple of months. Until his mum found out - in the worst possible way."

"You mean she-"

"Yup. She was at a friend's daughter's bachelorette show, and I'll give you one guess as to what happened when Jazz walked in. I used to think my mum was scary, but you should see my Aunt Rachel in action. Jazz ended up going back to his old job at McDonalds, but luckily, his band got noticed at a local bar a week later. They were quickly signed up to a label."

"Oh my God. How embarrassing." I snicker. "You want fries with that?" We both start laughing until I realize Edward is turning the steering wheel to the left instead of going straight ahead. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He turns into the parking lot of the Sherwin Williams Plaza.

The plaza has seven stores. Only four of them are open at this time of the night.

He parks the car in between two of the stores.

The store on the right is the Cascade Firearms Company.

The store on the left is called '_Lovers.'_

It's an adult store.

**({'})** _Do you think-?_

"Edward…" I turn to face him with a look of unadulterated fear, "…please, tell me that we're here to buy guns and ammo."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - To the old dear (in her sixties) who stood next to me at the airport x-ray machine and had to pull out her white, battery operated, phallic shaped "**_**massager**_**" at the insistence of the (male) security guard. Thanks so much for the inspiration. Good on you love. ;o)**

******(http)(:/)(/bit.)****. ly/RIP-BOB  
><strong>

**You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings – by Bette Midler**


	121. Chapter 121

**A/N - Apparently this chapter needs to come with a gross-out warning... so if you are not old enough to enter a sex store where fetish items might be sold, eff you see kay off. **I've never been into an adult store. I just know how to Google. ****

******Remove brackets for slide show. **The Lovers store - (ht)(tp)(:/)(/bit.)ly/LoversStore********

* * *

><p>Edward snickers at my somewhat passive-aggressive plea to go into the Cascade Firearms Company.<p>

He then bursts into laughter when the manager chooses that exact moment to step outside the store to pull down the heavy-duty security shutters for the night, thereby putting an end to my vain hopes of finding sanctuary.

"Oh, gee, damn," he says slowly in mock-disappointment. "It looks as though we're too late. And I was so looking forward to buying you your very first Glock." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in bemusement as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "So what do you say… while we're here, we head in to the adult store to buy some condoms and maybe find you a new toy? I'd like to replace the one Milly broke."

"You don't have to buy me a new toy."

"But I really want to. So, are you coming in with me or not?"

I shake my head. "No way. Someone might see me."

"Oh, come on. What are the chances of that happening? And what's so wrong with going into an adult store anyway? You're an adult – consenting adults can have sex. Is everyone you know under the misapprehension that you are still a virgin, or that you are under the age of eighteen?" He smirks and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

"That's not the point."

"What is the point then? Don't you want a replacement?"

**({'}) **_Good question._

I'm not against having a new sex toy per se, because I honestly do want one.

The point is that in order to obtain one, from a real-life store, and in person; it would mean I would have to go up to the sales clerk and present them with a vibrator of some description.

Yeah… I don't think so.

Essentially I'd be saying, "_Don't judge me, but I want to buy this buzzy, phallic-shaped object, because at some point, I intend on sticking it inside my hoo-hah so I can come and make myself feel awesome._"

No way!

**({'}) **_Just- _

No. Way.

I don't want to talk to some stranger about my vagina or what I plan on doing to it!

To me, the whole idea of that process just seems… horrifying.

Edward takes my silence as a rejection of his offer, and he gets out of the Volvo. He then comes around to my side of the car.

Initially, I think it's because he's going to plead his case or just drag me kicking and screaming into the store. However, he kisses me deeply instead, and it's one of those kisses you feel all the way down to your toes.

**({'})** …_and right between your thighs._

"I'll be waiting," he says huskily into my ear, and then he turns and walks off in the direction of the store, without giving me so much as a backwards glance, even after I tell him, "_Don't hold your breath_."

**({'}) **_Edward's ass looks so hot in those jeans._

**({'}) **_I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go, baby. _

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and cross my legs.

Damn you, Edward Cullen and your sexy ass!

Suddenly, my iPhone chimes.

It's a text from Edward.

**The store is empty. Only me and the sales girl here. Please come in. It'll be fun. - Ed x**

I immediately send a reply.

_**I guess we have a different idea of fun then. ~ B**_

His response is swift.

**I guess we do. I'm in here imagining all the fun ways I could make you come. I want to make you come over and over again. What's your idea of fun? - Ed x**

"Holy shit!"

Dear God, that man fights dirty.

**({'})** *_gurgle*_

I clasp my phone tightly, reading and rereading the message. My phone then chimes with yet another text.

**And now I'm fantasizing that one day you might let me watch while you get yourself off with one of these toys. Would you do that for me? Does that sound like fun to you? - Ed x**

An involuntary moan escapes my throat, and I quickly glance around at the parking lot to make sure no one heard me. The nearest cars are parked three stores down in front of Subway, and they appear to be empty.

"Oh God."

**({'}) **_*glug glug glug*_

I've barely finished reading the message for the second time when my phone chimes again.

**Does it turn you on? Would you let me watch you, bella donna? I'm getting hard just thinking about it, but I need your opinion on a different choice of weapon. - Ed x**

I've never done anything quite like that before, but the thought of him watching me, as I make myself come, makes my pulse start to race.

Would he touch himself, too?

Suddenly, I'm feeling faint and a bit tingly.

**({'}) **_A bit tingly? __I'm damn near drowning down here. _

Libby then starts humming "Weapon Of Choice" by Fatboy Slim.

Even so, I'm still not going in there. I take in a few deep, cleansing breaths as I text.

_**Never mind the weapons. Just remember your mission. No glove - No love. ~ B **_

My thumb is poised over the send button.

I stare down at my text to check for spelling mistakes.

Shit!

I've written the 'L' word.

Too soon….

I delete the message and rewrite it.

_**Your mission (should you choose to accept it) is to buy condoms. Just get in and get out, soldier. ~ B xx**_

I press send, and after another minute, a new text arrives. It's from Edward's phone, but I'm not exactly sure it's from him.

**Hi Bella, if you value your womanhood, I suggest you come into the store. Your boyfriend seems to be under the notion bigger is better, but he's a guy, so what does he know? Buying a vibrator or dildo should be a personal choice, and this company has a no return policy. I suggest you come into the store… unless, of course, you are happy for your boyfriend to buy you the ****Hung 12.5" X 3" dong and a can of Pjur Backdoor Spray on your behalf.**

**({'}) **_Good grief! Twelve and a half by three inches? Backdoor spray? Bella, you need to get in there and stop him! NOW!_

Sighing in resignation, I reach over and take the keys out of the ignition, and I lock the car.

As soon as I push through the door of the store, I am met by Edward.

I've been set up.

He's there, leaning against the window with his arms casually folded across his chest. It seems he's been standing by the door the whole damn time, watching me through the window while sending me horny texts.

I narrow my eyes and give him the bitch-brow.

"My womanhood? Really, Edward? Who in the Hell calls it '_womanhood'_ in real life? Tell me… do you secretly read women's romance novels? Should I start referring to your dick as your '_member?'_"

"What took you so long?" he says with a smirk.

Ignoring my glares, he takes my hand and walks me further into the store, passing by racks and racks of lingerie and sexy costumes. Every now and then, his eyes briefly flick to something that catches his attention, but he doesn't stop.

He's a man on a mission.

The store is not even close to what I imagined it would be. I was expecting a small, dark, grotty, seedy porn store; its walls covered in hardcore magazines, DVDs and cheap toys.

Instead, I discover it's a strange mixture of a gothic vampire castle meets industrial workshop meets cougar's boudoir.

There are several faux-stone arches that separate the different sections of the store, and strange gargoyle statues and stone lampposts sit on the various display tables.

The front of the sales counter is covered in silver diamond-plate steel with the store logo in the center, and the upper third portion of the store's walls, that are too high for product placement, are covered in shiny, corrugated iron, and tastefully erotic, black-and-white photographs.

Overhead, the spacious store is brightly lit by a combination of chandeliers and modern down-lights, and the floor in the center of the store, is covered with a leopard-print carpet surrounded by black tiling.

From the back of the room, I see a female sales clerk enter through a black door. She walks over to a table that has silver pails hanging from hooks around its edges, with several pails inserted into its surface. Between the sunken pails, there are colorful displays of inflated condoms.

The woman begins to tear off various packets of condoms from some larger rolls, and she distributes them into the individually labeled pails. The gargoyle figure dominating the display table is holding a sign that says, "Buy 6 and get 6 free."

The clerk appears to be in her forties, and when we make eye contact, she smiles at me warmly. "Welcome to Lovers, my name is Makenna. Feel free to look around and touch the tester products. If you have any questions or need any advice, just call me over, and I'll be happy to help out."

"Thanks," he says, and then he leads me over to the back wall.

On the left side of the store, I see there are rows and rows of assorted cock rings, penis pumps, male masturbation sleeves and fleshlights.

Fleshlights? Do guys actually use those things?

**({'}) **_Jeepers. __It's like looking at the Great Wall Of Vagina!_ _Who knew there was such a variety? _

**({'}) **_Oh my God! Look at that one… it's a fake pussy in the sole of a rubbery foot. And there's another one… except it's in between a pair of tits!_

Okay… that's downright disturbing.

And then, right in the middle of a sex store, I have an epiphany.

I suddenly realize that buying a traditional run-of-the-mill vibrator would probably be a relatively sane and tame purchase, compared to anyone who'd be willing to pony up the money for a _Pussy Foot_ or a _Titty Fuck Her_.

Yay! I'm not a freak!

In fact, I'm somewhat normal!

Immediately, I feel as though the weight of self-induced sexual repression has been lifted from my shoulders.

**({'}) **_Woohoo! Break out the credit card. Let's go shopping, girlfriend!_

With his hand at the small of my back, Edward guides me over to some display shelves that are standing against the back wall, off to the left of the black door. The shelves are filled with vibrators, plugs and dildos.

Despite my newly found sense of sexual freedom, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the myriad of choices available to me.

And I realize I have absolutely no clue as to where I should start. There are so many shapes and sizes and colors. It's all so confusing.

I have no idea of how long I've been standing and staring at the 'w_all-o-cock_,' but when I look towards Edward, to ask his opinion, he's not there. When I turn around, I notice he's walking towards the display table to talk with Makenna.

Obviously, he decided I needed some professional help.

**({'}) **_Smart man._

Makenna nods in acknowledgement at him, and then walks towards me.

With little fuss, she gets down to business. "Okay let's narrow it down for you, shall we? Dildo or vibrator."

"Um… vibrator."

"Electric, battery or rechargeable?"

The idea of anything that could possibly electrocute me is out of the question. And having to buy batteries is an annoying ongoing expense.

"Rechargeable?"

"Couples toy or solo?"

Again, I turn to ask Edward's opinion, but I discover he's still standing by the condom table, picking through the various pails and examining the packets carefully.

"Solo, I suppose."

"Now we're getting somewhere. We have several brands of rechargeable vibrators." Makenna leads me over to a display case standing on the right side of the black door. "These here are the cheapest, and therefore, they are our most popular sellers. This other brand, in my opinion, is the Rolls-Royce of the rechargeable family of vibrators. They are, of course, more expensive than the others, but they are a high-quality product, and I can highly recommend them." She gives me a knowing wink and a smile, and it makes me snicker.

Makenna leans in and says in a stage whispered voice, so Edward can still clearly hear her, "Come back on your own one day, and you can buy yourself this luxury G-spot vibrator to replace him." She picks up one of the vibrators and hands it to me.

We both look over at him, and he narrows his gaze at Makenna before raising a questioning eyebrow at me. His reaction makes both of us laugh.

I look down at the object in my hand.

As far as vibrators go, it's quite beautiful to look at and silky to the touch. Its main body is made of curved, pale-pink silicone and is approximately five inches long. The hard plastic handpiece where the control panel is located is white. It is strangely feminine for an eight-inch long object. Its softly sculpted ridges are almost petal-like in appearance.

I play with the control panel and discover the vibe is quiet, has multiple speeds and five powerful vibration modes.

**({'})** _Twin motors, and it's_ s_o pretty. *purr*_

"I'm not too sure about this one. It feels a little… wide," I say quietly.

**({'}) **_Remember your boyfriend over there? _

True. True.

"What else can you show me?"

"Actually, I have a new product that just came in today and it looks quite promising. I think you might be interested in it. I've got two of them on charge out the back. I'll grab one, and you can have a look."

Makenna opens the black door which opens into a small office space, and she walks over to the desk where two identically shaped objects are resting. One is purple, and one is teal, and they are connected to a pair of electrical cords. She disconnects the purple one and walks back to me.

I give her a dubious look when I see the shape of it. It is small, only four inches long, and looks vaguely tongue-shaped… or maybe a bit like a sleek alien spacecraft.

Placing the object into my palm, Makenna explains, "This is a clit vibrator, and from what I've read it's quite suitable for beginners. It's remarkably quiet and discreetly sized, which makes it excellent for travel, but it's reasonably powerful for such a small rechargeable toy. It's also fully waterproof and submersible, so it's perfectly safe to use in the tub. Personally, I haven't had a chance to try one of these out yet, but-"

Makenna looks behind me with concern, and I'm suddenly aware Edward is quickly moving towards us by the sound of his hurried footsteps.

I begin to turn around, but he quickly grasps me by the shoulders and guides me to walk further into the office. He then moves us to stand behind the open door.

"Edward? What in the-" I start to question, but my words are abruptly cut off when his hand covers my mouth.

Putting his forefinger in front of his lips, he shushes me.

"What's wrong?" Makenna and I both whisper. I'm worried the store might be in the process of being held up by armed robbers.

"I hate to tell you this, Bella, but Charlie and Sue just walked into the store."


	122. Chapter 122

"Ha-ha, I get it! Nice try," I quip, as I playfully pat him on the cheek. "Very funny, Edward; but I'm not falling for it. Stop joking around, and let's go back to the toy shopping, shall we? We don't have much time. Your neighbor will wonder what's happened to us if we don't get a move along," I remind him as I begin to make my way to the door.

He grasps my wrist and spins me around to face him. "Bella, I'm not kidding around this time. Seriously, they are in the store. I spotted them as they were walking past the windows, but I didn't expect them to double back. When Charlie started to open the door, I walked over here as fast as I could without drawing undue attention. I don't think they saw-"

"Can someone please explain what's going on here?" Makenna interjects. "You two shouldn't be back here, and I need to attend to the store if there are more customers out there."

He gently grips Makenna by the shoulders and beseeches her. "Charlie and Sue, the two customers who just walked in the store, are Bella's father and her soon-to-be step-mum. You can imagine how awkward this situation is for us, so I am begging you, for Bella's sake; would it be possible for the two of us to stay in here until they leave?"

Seeming to mull the matter over, Makenna is interrupted by the chime of a desk bell. "Just a minute," she calls loudly in a sing-song voice before lowering her volume to a whisper. "Okay. You can hide in here, but don't go snooping about. We value our customer's privacy."

She turns off a desktop computer and then walks toward some mobile compactor units that stand against the wall on the right side of the room. The eight compactor units are filled from top to bottom with stock. One of the units on the far end has a sign that says, '_Lay-aways and special orders_.'

Pushing all the compactor units together, she then turns a steering wheel-like handle, effectively locking the compactor system.

"Thanks for agreeing to help us out. We'll owe you one," he says, as Makenna passes us on her way out to the shop floor.

"Yes. Yes, you will, and believe me; I'll think of something," she replies enigmatically and smirks.

As soon as Makenna closes the door behind her, I collapse my body weight against it, and whimper.

"So, what's the bet they're out there buying Sue one of those 'Dirty Cop' role-playing outfits?"

"Shut up, Edward," I grumble, "or else I'm going to search this room for a ball-gag."

He shakes his head in mock-disappointment. "Oh, Bella… why must you always tease me with empty threats of bondage..." he trails off wistfully.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he fires off a text to Mrs. Cope; to let her know we might be returning later than what we anticipated.

This must be a dream.

A bad, bad dream.

I'm half expecting my clothes will suddenly vanish, so I'm left standing in my underwear as I attempt to give a seminar presentation in front of my colleagues.

That's how my nightmares usually progress.

**({'})** _At least you are wearing pretty matching underwear._

I pinch my inner, upper arm - hard.

"Ow!"

I look down at the red mark that has begun to bloom on the pale, sensitive skin there.

Why'd I have to pinch myself so hard? That really hurt, damn it!

Okay. So it's obviously not a dream.

Therefore, I'm living a real life nightmare, and in a porn store of all places.

I can't be here.

This is not happening.

My dad is not out there buying… Oh God. I don't even want to think about it.

I wish I had Dorothy's ruby slippers, so I could click them together to whisk me away to Kansas.

Click. Click. Click.

There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.

**({'})** But y_ou don't live in Kansas._

Kansas, Kentucky, Kalamazoo, Karachi or Kangaroo Island - I'd rather be anywhere but right here, right now.

I close my eyes and whimper in mortification.

Kill me now. God, just strike me down with fucking lightning already.

The first time I enter a porn store, the absolute last person on Earth I would ever want to run in to, happens to turn up.

I can't believe my dad is here in a porn store!

My dad!

Lordy, what did I do to deserve this?

I'm not superstitious, nor do I believe in reincarnation or karma, but seriously, why does shit like this always seem to happen to me?

I'm a good person; or so I've been told.

I believe in God, and I think I've managed to follow at least half of the Ten Commandments that Reverend Higginbotham, my maternal grandfather, tried to indoctrinate into me as a young child.

I love my parents. I've never committed murder, never stolen anything (intentionally) nor coveted my neighbor's wife, servants, ox or ass.

**({'}) **_Yeah… definitely not your neighbor's ass. _

Libby's right. Creepy Mr. Berty makes Royce King look like a stud.

**({'}) **_Really?_

Come to think of it, that's a lie, because they are both equally heinous.

**({'}) **_Amen_.

I sigh.

"I don't even want to think about what they're looking for out there. I need a distraction," I groan.

"What's that in your hand?" he asks.

Opening my eyes and then my hand, I realize I'm still holding onto the purple, silicone toy Makenna was about to show me.

"Um… it's a rechargeable clit vibrator."

He cocks an eyebrow. "Can I have a look at it?" I pass him the small toy that is barely longer than my middle finger. Its breadth is as wide as two fingers. "How does it work?" He's turning the device over in his hands. There doesn't seem to be any obvious switches or dials.

Walking over to the desk, I find what appears to be some packaging the vibe came in, and I pull out the small product leaflet from inside.

I read the instructions aloud as I walk back to him. "There's a push button in the center of the charging end: press it to turn on; press it repeatedly to step through the eight different vibrating modes."

He pushes down on the wider base of the vibe, and it instantly purrs to life in his hand. Its low rumble can be clearly heard, but it's relatively quiet. I doubt the vibrator would be audible outside of this room.

He smiles mischievously and then places the vibe on the exposed skin just above my breasts, making my breath hitch. The vibe doesn't seem as fast as BOB, but its vibrations feel deep and powerful.

While the clit vibe is still pressed up against my skin, he pushes on the button again.

I giggle at the sensation. The vibe is now buzzing at a rate of revolutions per minute that seem similar to what BOB used to achieve. I look down at the leaflet to see what else this little wonder can do.

Low was 3000 rpm; apparently, medium is 3600 rpm.

The button is pushed again, and I realize he is inching the vibe closer to the top of my strapless bra.

The following setting is labeled as _high_, and at 4200 rpm, I feel my breathing accelerate.

"Oh, wow," I whisper softly and close my eyes.

"Does that feel good?" he asks in a low, raspy voice.

I nod, and he pushes the button again.

The moan that escapes me is captured by his mouth as he quickly moves in to kiss me.

Setting four - also known as _ultra_.

4800 delicious, high speed revolutions per minute are now humming directly over my right nipple.

The button is pushed again, but the erotic mood is broken by my giggles against his lips.

Nine intermittent, throbbing pulses are briefly followed by a deep, constant rumbling, followed again by nine throbbing pulses. I look down at the leaflet.

Setting five – _Tease._

The next two settings are called '_wave'_ and 'pulse,' and their sensations are quite entertaining, to say the least, but it is the last setting that has us both snickering. We both mouth along to the _Cha Cha_ vibration mode.

"One, two… Cha-cha-cha. Three, four … Cha-cha-cha."

He presses the button again, and the vibe comes to a standstill. He then takes his hand out from the top of my dress, and I readjust my bra.

"Hmmm, interesting. I wonder…?" He then looks at me with lust-darkened eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"No," I say jokingly, as I shake my head and then smile.

Taking the product leaflet out of my hand and tucking it into his pocket, he chuckles and says, "Turn around and put your hands up against the door."

"Why? I regard him suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

Edward holds up the vibrator, cocks one eyebrow, and then bites down on his lower lip to suppress his panty evaporating smile.

No way!

**({'}) **_Oh, yes way!_

He steps in close, so our bodies are touching, and then murmurs into my ear, "I like watching you come. It's kind of fascinating to me."

"You can't use that on me in here!" I hiss. "It's not my toy; it wouldn't be sanitary. Plus, Makenna could walk in on us at any minute."

"Shhhh. I just wanna try one thing."

Although my mouth is protesting, my libido seems to have a different idea, because I suddenly realize I'm facing the door, and my forehead is resting against the backs of my hands.

"Spread your legs for me." His foot taps the inside of my ankle, urging me to widen my stance, as though I'm about to be frisked.

He flips the lock on the door. He then turns a dimmer dial on the light switch to darken the room; however, there is still enough light to enable us to see each other.

"Just stay very still. Don't move," he commands, as he moves to stand behind me.

My back and butt are now pressed up hard against his chest, abdomen and pelvis.

After turning the vibrator on, he inches his hand around my waist, lowering it down along the front of my body until it is resting lightly over my pussy.

Even though there are two layers of clothing between the toy and my clit, its vibrations cause my legs to tremble when he increases the speed to medium.

"Whoa. Oh, God," I breathe.

I can't believe we are doing this. It feels dangerous and illicit, but exhilarating at the same time. I'm starting to feel dizzy.

"Faster?" he asks, as he starts to kiss along the bare skin of my shoulder.

"Warp speed four, Captain," I plead.

He presses the button twice so the vibe is buzzing at _ultra_ speed.

"Holy shit," I pant, and then I begin to moan.

"Shhhh. You have to be very quiet, my naughty girl." He breathes hotly against the skin of my neck as he licks and nibbles his way up towards my earlobe. "You don't want anyone to know what's happening in here; do you?"

I whimper at his words and the sensations.

My hips begin to swivel and rock against his hand, to pursue the vibrations where I need them the most.

His cock feels long and hard, as he's pressing and grinding against my lower back while I rub my pussy against the small device in the palm of his hand.

After a minute, his other hand reaches down into the top of my bra. His fingers begin to twirl and flick my left nipple, and I feel the beginnings of the orgasm that's about to be ripped from deep within my belly. I have to muffle my moans against the back of my hand.

"Non abbiamo molto tempo."

He's speaking in Italian again. He has no idea what that does to me.

"Darei un occhio per vedere voi venire."

"Oh God. Yes," I cry.

He told me last night my answers should always be, 'Yes.'

"Venire. Dammelo."

Edward then bites down on my earlobe as his fingers pinch my nipple.

I barely manage to choke out the words, "_Gonna come_," when I'm rocked and overwhelmed by my orgasm.

My legs feel weak beneath me, and he has to wrap his arms tightly around my waist to save me from falling down to my knees.

"I think we have a winner," he says in a purr against the skin at the back of my ear. He then turns the vibrator off.

**({'})** _Wow! I think I'm in love! All that power… and through two layers of clothing!_ _Fuck me running!_ _Tell me your name, little buddy, and where have you been all my life?_

It seems as though Libby is over the loss of BOB.

**({'}) **_Huh? __BOB who?_

The air in my lungs comes out in a gust. "Holy shit!" I pant as I turn around to face him. "That was-"

The rest of my words are cut off as he moves forward and kisses me hungrily, pressing his body solidly against me, so that the door is pressed hard behind my back.

I'm trapped between a cock and a hard place, and it's not a bad position to be in.

Unless, of course, you happen to be Edward '_my-dick-is-rock-hard_' Cullen; because in the precise moment I hitch my leg over his hip, to grind myself against him, we hear the rattling of the door handle and Makenna's slightly muffled voice.

"They're gone now, and I'm giving both of you one minute to sort yourselves before I use my key and forcibly drag you out by the ears."

He groans when I step away from him to reposition my bra and tidy up my dress. Taking the vibe out of his hand, I walk over to the desk.

Behind me, I hear him muttering something about dead kittens and puppies, Sarah Jessica Parker and Posh Spice in bikinis, and Borat in a mankini.

**({'})** _What is he talking about?_

At a guess, I think he's trying to will away his hard-on.

I gather up the packaging of the vibe and disconnect its charging cord from the electrical socket.

**({'}) **_Mine!_

"Better pull up your pants… I'm coming in," Makenna threatens as Edward simultaneously opens the door.

Barging past Edward, she sweeps her gaze around the room before turning her eyes to us.

Spying the cord, packaging, and the vibe in my hand, Makenna chuckles and then raises a questioning eyebrow. "So, will you be paying by cash or credit?"

"Credit," he says, immediately producing his wallet and handing her his card.

Makenna spins on her heel and heads over to the register.

Sheepishly, I follow her, but when we arrive at the counter, I turn and note Edward is standing and staring at the _wall-o-cock _again.

"Edward?"

"What color do you like best? Pink, blue or deep rose?" he asks.

"Er… pink?"

He reaches up, grabs a box from the shelf and tucks it under his arm before casually strolling over to the condom display table. He then starts picking out a variety of condoms, carefully examining the packaging before placing them in a small pile. I guess he's checking the used-by dates.

Turning back to look at Makenna, she regards me curiously, and I blush under her scrutinizing gaze.

"So am I to believe this little toy managed to get you off in less than three minutes?"

"Yeah, even over two layers of clothing." My eyes then widen disbelievingly. "Were we really in there for just three minutes?"

Makenna nods. "Sue and your dad were only here long enough to make a payment on a special order. They-"

I hold my hand up in protest. "Whoa now. Please, spare me the gruesome details; I already know more than I care to about their predilection for handcuffs."

Makenna just laughs. "I wasn't about to give you the specifics. Anyway… since I did you a favor, I'd like to ask for one in return."

I narrow my gaze at her. "What exactly are you asking?"

"This vibe is a new product, and the secret blogger who normally reviewed our new stock items has moved away. Write me a product review on my store's blog and we'll call it even. In fact, as an incentive, I'll give you the clit vibe at cost price. What do you say?" She pushes a business card toward me. Written on the back of the card there is a website URL and a password for logging in.

"Sold," Edward says, picking up the card and pocketing it. He then plonks a pink and white rectangular box onto the counter, along with a pile of different colored foil packets.

The box contains one of the luxury g-spot vibrators Makenna had been showing to me earlier on.

I look at him questioningly, and he returns my gaze in a likewise manner before mouthing, "_What_?"

**({'})** _Oh my God! I'm going to be spoiled for choices. Oh Edward, I'm so happy I could sing some Avril._

Well, at least it's not Bette Midler.

**({'}) **You_ make me wanna scream. You're so fabulous. You're so good to meeeee baby, baby… You're so good to meeeee baby, baby…_

"Hmmm. It takes a confident man to buy his lady one of these. Bella may just run off with it and leave you behind," Makenna jokes.

He retorts confidently. "Well, you know what they say; keep your friends close and your enemies closer. This one's going to be living on my boat, so Bella will have to come and visit me if she wants to play with it." He winks at me and then smirks.

I smack him on the arm, and he chuckles. "Ouch! Okay, okay; I'm just kidding! Why must you always be so aggressive with me, Mistress Bella?"

Makenna starts laughing when I gasp in shock and then slap him on the arm again.

-oo0oo-

Within the nanosecond we're through the front door, Edward's body is attached to mine like a magnet. His hands are all over me, and he has me pressed up against the wall. We're dry humping and panting like a couple of hormonal teenagers at a party.

The two shopping bags I'm holding fall out of my grasp, and we hear the sound of smashing glass.

"Fuck!" I gasp between kisses. "I think I just broke the taco sauce."

"Doesn't matter," he pants. "I'm not hungry for tacos anyway… unless we're talking-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Edward. Never refer to my lady-garden as a taco."

He snickers against the skin of my neck. "_Lady-garden_? And you told me off earlier for calling it your _womanhood_. Besides, if I recall last night, which I do, there was no _garden_ to speak of. Perhaps I should check out the landscape again - just to be sure."

I moan when he kneels at my feet, lifts the hem of my dress and ducks his head underneath. His hands travel from my ankles to my knees and his breath is warm against my panties. Just as I'm about to hitch my leg over his shoulder, we are suddenly interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing.

It's coming from the vicinity of the living room.

We both freeze. Edward ducks out from under my dress, and we both peer around the corner to look in the living room. Instantly, we see the back of Mrs. Cope's tightly permed, gray head. She is lounging in one of the leather recliner sofas and casually flipping through a gossip magazine.

"Hello, dears," she says cheerfully. "Is it safe to turn around yet?" Mrs. Cope attempts to shift the recliner chair back into the sitting position, but she's having some difficulties.

"Shit, I totally forgot she was here," he whispers, while standing up and adjusting his erection within the confines of his jeans. "Hey, Mrs. Cope," he calls out. "Thanks for looking after Milly. Sorry we were a bit later than expected. Um… I'm gonna go get something to clean up this mess. There's some… er… taco sauce and broken glass on the floorboards." He then runs away towards the kitchen.

Chicken.

I guess that just leaves me to face the music.

I straighten my clothes and smooth out my hair before walking around the corner into the living room.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Cope. Um… I guess we got a little carried away in the heat of the moment. We sort of forgot you were here," I explain as I drop the footrest and help her out of the recliner.

"Don't mind me, sweetie. I was young once, and let me give you some free advice... you've gotta take advantage of them while they are young and can still do the business. Take my husband Larry, may God rest his soul. He had a penis the size of a baby dill pickle, and when he hit forty-five he developed erectile dysfunction issues."

**({'}) **_Yikes! Too much information, lady. La-la-la-la-lah…_

"I'm so sorry to hear that. When did your husband pass away? Was it recent?"

"Oh… he's not dead yet! That's just wishful thinking on my part. He ran off with the maid thirteen years ago, back when Viagra first came on the market. He left me with nothing but bad debts and bad memories."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, too."

"Don't worry about it, sweetie. It all worked out for the best. I got me a toy boy now. He's fifteen years younger than me, and let me tell you, he bears no resemblance to a pickle, and he certainly doesn't need Viagra! A hard man is good to find," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "In fact, I might just give him a text right now. I'm in the mood for a booty call."

**({'})** _Pass me the brain bleach._

"Thanks once again, Mrs. Cope," I say as we navigate our way towards the front door. "Watch out for the broken glass."

Just as I open the door for her, Mrs. Cope bends down and picks up a box that is half hanging out of one of the shopping bags.

It's the box containing the luxury g-spot vibrator. My whole body flushes crimson when she hands it to me.

"I have one of these, too, but mine is blue," she says pointing to the box. "My toy boy bought it for me last Valentine's Day. Best. Thing. Ever!"

Mrs. Cope winks and then waves at me over her shoulder as she descends the porch steps. "Toodles, dear; have fun."

**({'}) **_Oh believe me, sweetie… I intend to._

* * *

><p><strong>AN  
><strong>_**Hot – by Avril Lavigne.**_** Thanks go to my five year old Son for playing this song on his iPod touch this morning. While it's sad he has inherited his father's embarrassing taste in music, it was perfect for this chapter.**

_****_Non abbiamo molto tempo_ = We don't have much time.****_

_****_Darei un occhio per vedere voi venire_. = I would give anything to see you come.****_

_**Venire**_**_. Dammelo_ = Come. Give it to me.**

**B.O.B xxx**


	123. Chapter 123

_**Saturday evening - 11.00pm.** _

With a large beach towel wrapped around my bare shoulders, I open the French doors and step outside onto the cold flagstone pavers.

With the hour being so late, the air has cooled somewhat, and the gentle night breeze from the direction of The Sound makes me shiver.

It is dark, and the only available light beneath the oval-shaped veranda comes from a semicircular Jacuzzi situated against the stone wall on the left. The blue tinted lights within the Jacuzzi give off an eerie, alien glow that casts an array of rippling patterns on the ceiling above.

Edward is waiting for me in the Jacuzzi.

His eyes are closed, and a curtain of warm water cascades over his shoulders from a horizontal water spout situated on the wall, just above his head.

As though he has a sixth sense to my presence, he opens his eyes and scrubs the water droplets from his face and hair. As I hang my towel over the back of one of the outdoor dining chairs, he smiles at me deviously and licks his lower lip.

I know that look.

He's the Devil.

He's about to say something smart-ass about my Corona bikini. I can almost hear the cogs of his mind working overtime.

"If I hear you say one word about my swimsuit, I swear I'm gonna dunk you under," I warn, as I step closer to the Jacuzzi.

"You wound me with your lack of faith, Bella," he replies with a hand over his heart, feigning innocence and hurt.

"Yeah, right."

"I mean… thoughts of Mexican beer and your taco didn't even cross my mind," he says snickering and escaping to the far side of the Jacuzzi.

Stepping up onto the flagstone edge, I dip a foot into the water as if I'm testing its warmth. Instead, I kick my foot forward and splash water directly into his stunned face.

"Oh…, you really shouldn't have done that…"

He scrambles to get out of the water, so I turn and jump off the edge. Bounding down the veranda steps two at a time, I take off at a run toward the garden path.

The full moon is low, and it appears yellow in the sky. It offers little in the way of illumination as I pass beneath the garden archways. The sharp gravel stings the soles of my feet, so I decide to get off the path and cut through a gap between a pair of lavender bushes.

Unfortunately, (for me) as soon as my feet land on the dewy grass, they slip out from under me, and gracelessly, I fall on my ass. As I attempt to get to my feet again, Edward baseball-slides next to me and grasps me by the ankle.

"Are you okay?" he asks, laughing as he crawls towards me.

"Yeah. I just wounded my pride… and my ass." I chuckle and then rub my butt.

Edward then rubs my ass gently in what I mistakenly believe is a show of sympathy, before unceremoniously hoisting me over his shoulder and walking in the direction of the kidney-shaped pool.

"What are you doing? Put me down!" I start to squirm, but he just holds on tighter. He gives my ass a swat, and I yelp. "What was that for?" I protest indignantly.

"That was for running away and making me worry that you'd hurt yourself. And this… is for splashing me in the face."

Standing on the edge of the unheated pool, he's attempting to throw me into the water; however, I'm determined to hold onto him for dear life, like a spider monkey.

We are both laughing hysterically as we horseplay.

Somehow, I manage to wrap my arms around his head and my legs around his waist. I scream and giggle when he starts tickling me and blowing raspberries against my neck and shoulders, but I refuse to let go.

Instead, I decide to fight dirty and start pulling on the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow," he whines. "Stop fighting like a bloody girl."

"I am a girl! Put me down," I demand, and then I lick his cheek.

"Arghh. Sure I will… as soon as you let go of my damn hair." He manages to detach one of my hands from his hair, and we arm wrestle in mid-air until he manages to lock my arm behind my back; but I still have one hand on his neck.

"You let go first."

"Ow. Ow. No, you first!"

"Okay, we'll both let go on the count of three."

"Fine. One… two… Mine!" Edward whoops triumphantly.

Mine?

What happened to three?

Suddenly, I notice my ass feels cold.

"What the-?" I quickly let go of him as I wonder where in the hell my bathing suit went.

Stupid. Mistake.

_SPLASH_

"F-f-f-f-f-f-fuck!" I yell when my head breaks the surface of the chilly water.

**({'})** _So cold… So cold… So cold._ _Brrrrr_.

My teeth are chattering as I start to swim, completely naked, to the side of the pool.

Edward is pissing himself with laughter.

It's then I see he's holding up two tiny scraps of material in front of his body.

Without my knowledge, during our playful tussling, it seems he was sneakily undoing all the ties on my bikini. On the count of two, he'd ripped off my bikini bottoms, and he'd managed to hold onto my top when I fell into the water.

Payback is a bitch, Cullen.

And so am I.

"Arrgh. Shit, cramp!" I flail about my arms a few times and then slowly sink to the bottom of the pool.

Under the water, I can barely make out the shadowy figure of Edward standing by the side of the pool. Thankfully, I can hold my breath for a good length of time.

"Bella?" I hear his muffled voice above me. "Bella?"

After the first minute, my lungs begin to protest with the initial twinges of burning desire to take another breath, but I know I have two more minutes to go until I must positively surface or blackout and drown.

"Bella! Fuck!"

_SPLASH. _

Sucker.

"Shit that's cold. Bella? Bella? Where are you?" he calls out sounding concerned before diving down into the water.

Stealthily, I torpedo my way over to him, and I grab onto the waistband of his shorts. I manage to pull them down past his knees before he realizes what I'm doing.

He resurfaces and laughs as he struggles and kicks in vain.

Now I have a prize of my own.

While Edward may be faster on land, I reign supreme in the water, and I manage to out-race him to the pool steps.

Grabbing up my own discarded bathing suit, I race back towards the house.

"I can't believe I tried to save you," he yells, "You are so mean to me, Bella Swan."

"I can't believe you thought I was in need of saving. Swimming Instructor, remember?" I laugh.

Cupping his hands over his privates, he follows at a leisurely pace and threatens to throw me back into the pool, unless I return his shorts.

Halfway down the gravel pathway, I turn to face him, dangle his shorts in front of my hips, shake my ass, and then taunt him about cold water and dick shrinkage.

He breaks into a full-on run.

Now, I don't care who you are, but let's face it – watching a naked guy running is hilarious. I burst out laughing at the sight before realizing he is about to catch up with me.

Laughing and shrieking, I sprint for the safety of the French doors. If I'm quick enough, I may just be able to lock him outside.

The instant my feet hit the steps of the veranda, he captures me and hoists me over his shoulder once again. Playfully, he bites the side of my ass, and I yelp in surprise.

"Oops," he says sheepishly before snickering.

"Oops? What d'ya mean by oops?" I look at where he bit me, and I can see he's left behind a fucking hickey. That's going to be visible in the morning. I just hope my swimming instructor's shirt will cover it when I'm at work. "You are such a Neanderthal, you know that?" I huff indignantly, and then I smack him on his fine, muscular ass - really hard.

Now my hand hurts. I drop our wet swim suits on the flagstones, so I can massage the sting from my palm.

He chuckles. "Me, Ed. Uhg. You, mine." He grunts and then slaps himself on the chest twice before carrying me back toward the Jacuzzi.

He gently lowers me into the warm, bubbling water, and I groan and sigh in pleasure as my chilled skin starts to thaw. He turns and walks toward the outdoor dining table.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in a minute," he says as he wraps a towel around his waist, "I'm just going to get some drinks. Is there anything you want in particular?"

"Got any Mexican beer?" I say half-joking.

"Sí. As a matter of fact… we do," he says in a slightly slurred accent that makes him sound as though he should be in a Speedy Gonzalez cartoon. "Pacifico okay with you, señorita? 'Cause Corona is what ze gringo tourists drink."

I nod and giggle.

After a few minutes, he returns carrying two bottles of beer.

He sits opposite me in the Jacuzzi, and as I drink my beer, he firmly massages my feet, which are resting on his thighs.

"Mmmmm. That feels like heaven," I moan as his fingers diligently knead into my arches. It feels so good I'm close to falling asleep and drooling. I'm so relaxed.

As soon as I finish my beer, he grins and then starts to pull my body towards him by hooking his fingers behind my knees.

Gliding towards him, I smile knowingly. I'm 100% certain that as soon as I'm on his lap, I'll feel the hard-on I've been brushing my toes against - accidentally on purpose, of course.

With my knees straddling his hips, we wrap our arms around each other, and we kiss until we're hot and breathless.

Breaking from our kiss, my head falls back, allowing him to kiss, lick, and nibble my breasts. The breast not receiving attention from his talented mouth, is not left wanting, as he expertly teases the nipple to a peak with his fingers and thumb.

"Yes, mmm." My hands hold on to the back of his head, as I moan my approval.

He takes it in turns, alternating between tasting one breast and then the other, as his fingers play over my skin.

Sucking my nipple deep into his mouth, he draws a gasp of pleasure from my throat. My hips begin to rock.

"Oh fuck, yes," he groans.

Sliding his hands down my hips to grasp my bottom, he pulls me closer to him.

His erection is warm and hard against my abdomen. Shrinkage is clearly no longer an issue, and I know how much he wants me.

Libby starts singing '_I Feel You,_' by Depeche Mode. She thinks Dave Gahan is sexy because his voice does funny things to her. Kind of like what Edward's cock is doing to her right now.

**({'})** _I feel you - each move you make. I feel you - each breath you take._

"I should have bought your little clit vibrator out here with us," he says panting into my ear as I slide my pussy against his cock. "We should test it out again to see if it is water-proof and submersible… all in the name of research and accurate reporting, of course."

"Of course, research…," I sigh, as his lips find their way back towards my throat.

"I guess there's… always… tomorrow," he says between kisses on my collarbone.

"Huh? Tomorrow? What's tomorrow?"

"You… me… in the shower before I take you to work."

Sounds like an offer too good to refuse. "You're on. Now can we get out of this tub, please? I'm feeling a little dizzy from the heat and beer."

"Yeah, sure." He presses some buttons to turn off the Jacuzzi lights and jets. Leaning forward, he encourages me to wrap my arms and legs around him, and then he stands and steps out of the water.

While still holding onto me with one hand, he manages to pick up a towel, and he wraps it around my shoulders. He then picks up the portable baby monitor from the top of the outdoor dining suite and carries me towards his bedroom.

We're unable to stop ourselves from kissing, touching, and laughing, and the route to his bedroom takes much longer than necessary.

Clumsily, we slide along walls, trip over baby toys, accidentally drop the baby monitor, and bump into furniture along the way until we're finally standing in front of his bedroom door.


	124. Chapter 124

Once we are in his bedroom, Edward playfully throws me down onto his ridiculously large bed, and I scoot up to rest my back against the abundance of pillows in front of the ornate brass headboard.

He leaves the baby monitor on the night stand and then walks towards a provincial armchair sitting in front of a floor to ceiling bookcase.

Earlier in the evening, I had left the _Lovers _shopping bag there, after we'd cleaned up the hallway floor of broken glass and taco sauce.

His bedroom is beige.

Beige, beige, and more beige.

Beige carpet, beige walls, beige bedspread, and a beige armchair with a matching beige ottoman.

The only respite from the sea of boring beige is a ruffled, dusty-rose colored bed skirt, a French provincial armoire, and a potted palm. It looks like a room I once stayed in at a swanky hotel.

The only personal items in the room appear to be the photographs on the nightstands.

One photograph is relatively recent - taken at Carlisle and Esme's wedding. Edward, Esme, and Carlisle are standing together in a line with champagne glasses in their hands, whereas Rosie is holding a water glass. They are all smiling at the camera. Carlisle and Edward are dressed in black suits, and they look incredibly handsome. Edward's hair is much shorter in the photo than it is now.

The second photo is of Edward and another soldier whom I presume to be Paul. Both men have severe buzz cuts, and they are standing with an arm around each other's shoulders in the bright sun. Behind them are the remains of a building that appears to have been destroyed in battle. They are both decked out in full Army combat uniforms, and they have their carbine assault rifles draped over their shoulders. Edward has one eye closed, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and he's smirking at the camera. Paul is cross-eyed and poking his tongue out, and he's giving a middle finger salute to the photographer.

The third photo is the oldest one. It shows a younger Edward, Rosie and Paul sitting on a swing seat. Paul is cradling Rosie in his arms, and she has her eyes scrunched closed. Her mouth is open in an expression of surprise, and Paul's lips are smiling against her cheek. Edward is seated next to Paul, and he's giving both Paul and Rosie the bunny ears with his fingers behind their heads. The boys look to be about fourteen or fifteen.

The resemblance between Paul and Edward is remarkable. I can understand how people had mistaken them for brothers when they were younger; however, as they aged, Edward's face lost the roundness of youth as his cheekbones and jaw became more defined, whereas Paul's didn't.

Reaching into the shopping bag, Edward pulls out a small paper bag and places it in the drawer of the nightstand before lying down next to me on the bed.

It's the bag containing the dozen (not-faulty-as-far-as-we-know) condoms, and I eye the drawer in contemplation as his fingers gently caress the skin of my thigh from my knee to my hip.

This is it.

We're going to have sex.

**({'}) **_Hallelujah!_

After Eric and I broke up, I vowed I would never again give this part of myself to anyone, unless I truly loved them.

I know I'm in love with Edward.

I've never felt such certainty about anything or anyone in my whole life.

I have no idea where this conviction comes from, but I choose to hold on to it, and I pray to God he feels even half of what I'm feeling for him right now.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks, and I look down to meet his gaze.

I just wish I could say, "_I love you, Edward, and I want us to be together forever because I don't think I could live without you_," but it's too soon.

"Bella?"

"Oh, um, nothing really," I lie, "I was just looking around your room. It's not particularly… you." That part is not a lie. "You said you had some plans for permanently getting out from under this roof."

"Come 'ere and lie down with me. You're too far away." He grasps my hip and urges me to move down the bed, so I can lie next to him face to face. "Much better." He smiles and then kisses my forehead. I hitch my leg over his hip and move in even closer. "Much, much better," he purrs, and he then wraps his arm around me.

We are chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis; our limbs intertwined.

He gently runs his fingers through the back of my hair before continuing. "This room is just a place to crash for now. My boat is where I'd prefer to be. This morning as I was staring at the Sound, I had an idea I thought I might run by Aro. If he's agreeable, it may mean I'll be able to stay on my boat as much as I want."

I smile and nod in understanding. It sounds as though he may ask Aro if he can permanently moor his boat at Gallagher Cove. It sounds like a great idea. I hope it works out for him.

"Bella?"

"Mhmmm."

"You seem… nervous."

"Do I?"

Yes… I am slightly nervous; I just didn't realize it was written all over my face.

He nods and then kisses me chastely even though his hard cock is unchastely pressed against my hip bone. "We don't have to do this tonight if you're not ready. I'm okay with waiting. I know we haven't been together for long; it's just-"

I interrupt his speech by kissing him forcefully.

Using my thigh, I push against his hip and urge him to roll onto his back.

Words are unnecessary because my actions speak volumes.

I want him.

Right. Now.

As I straddle him, I concentrate on pouring everything I feel for him into every touch, every kiss, and every movement of my body against his until we are both panting with need.

"Grab a condom," I moan.

He shakes his head and then whispers in my ear, "Let me taste you first. I need your pussy on my mouth. I've been thinking about it all day; what we did last night... I want more."

"God, yes." I start to move off of him, but he stills me.

Cupping my bottom in his hands, he gently coaxes me to shuffle forward until I'm kneeling above his face. "Grab onto the headboard," he commands.

I reach for the headboard, and then I look down. My knees are splayed apart on either side of his head, and he's smiling and staring directly at my pussy. His eyes are so dark and full of lust they appear black. The barest sliver of his sea-green irises remains visible.

He grasps my hips and urges me to sit down lower onto his waiting mouth. In this dominant position, I feel a little awkward and self-conscious, but the second his lips touch my pussy, my eyes close in ecstasy, and my head falls forward.

"Mmmmm," he hums between hot licks and tender kisses. "You're so sweet… Mmm, wet for me… love the way you feel on my tongue," he murmurs before diving said tongue inside of me.

"Fuck," I breathe shakily, and my thighs tremble.

One of his hands reaches up to play with my nipples, while the other holds firmly onto my hip, urging me to rock against his face.

His enthusiastic moans against my pussy are driving me to the brink. I'm about to lose my mind. My body quivers as my walls clench with the first stirrings of an orgasm.

I pray to God Edward can breathe through his ears, because I think I'm riding his face hard. I can hear and feel the brass headboard creaking with each short thrust of my hips.

I open my eyes and look down at the erotic sight of him beneath me. When our gazes meet, he moans and then winks at me. The sight and sound cause yet another flood of arousal to flow through me, and I watch, fascinated, as his eyes roll back and close in an expression of rapture as he thrusts his tongue inside me again and again.

His tongue feels magnificent.

I'm nearly there… almost… just need… more.

"Need your fingers inside me," I whimper.

I feel his fingers ghost along my neck and jaw until they reach my lips.

"Open," he murmurs.

My lips part, and greedily I suck hard on the two fingers he slips into my mouth. Extracting his fingers, he then guides them into my aching pussy, finger-fucking me as his tongue swirls around my clit.

"Uhhhhh. Feels… so good."

The fingers of his right hand are slamming, twisting and curling inside my pussy, while the fingers of the right are playing with my nipples. His tongue is on my clit, and his moans are driving me wild.

So many sensations. It's a blissful sensory overload, and I'm close to falling over the edge.

So, so close.

As if he instinctively knows what I need, his lips suck my clit into his mouth, devouring me as his tongue flickers; over and over, again and again and again.

Instantaneously, the tension inside my belly builds and builds and builds until…

_Oblivion_.

"Oh, fucking God," I cry out, as my hands grip tightly onto the rails of the brass headboard. My head is thrown back by the force of my orgasm as I shudder and shake, coming around his fingers and against his tongue.

He lets out a low growl as his tongue laps against my flesh. The animalistic sounds he makes are like music to my ears.

"Fuck," I finally whimper, feeling utterly spent.

I'll never get enough of his mouth, and yet; I have to stop him as the pleasure begins to move towards hypersensitivity.

Falling to my side to get away from his eager mouth and fingers, I collapse onto the bed.

I'm a useless pile of boneless, sated, post-orgasmic bliss.

God, I adore his mouth.

I love everything he does with it.

I love his lips, his tongue, and his teeth.

Currently, his soft lips are peppering their way from my elbow to my shoulder.

Somehow, I must have won the '_Boyfriend with the most talented mouth'_ lottery.

**({'}} **_I agree. It's magical. It's so good it's almost criminal. His tongue should be bronzed… or cloned. Plaques and statues should be erected in honor of its perfection, or they should hold weekly street parades. I want it to be mine forever. I want to ma-_

"What did you just say?" he asks in an amused tone and chuckles.

**({'}} **_Uh-oh._

I know I was mentally singing the praises of Edward's mouth, but now it seems as though I may have lost my brain to mouth filter.

**({'}} **_I wonder if __it's__ possible to lose IQ points after an orgasm? _

It sounds plausible because I think that last orgasm may have blown my mind.

**({'}} **_Better come up with something quick._

"Um… I'm not sure. Maybe you imagined it. What do you think I just said?"

**({'}) **_Lame._

He chuckles again. "I'm pretty sure I heard you mutter something about winning a lottery and marrying my mouth." His eyes are playful, and his lips are smirking in undisguised mirth.

Yeah…

That sounds exactly like something I'd say in a moronic, post-orgasmic stupor.

**({'}) ***_face palm_*****


	125. Chapter 125

I groan in embarrassment, but Edward cuts me off with a searing kiss before saying, "My mouth is yours… any time you want it; it's all yours."

His words cause another wave of desire to surge through me, and reaching over, I urge him to lay his body on top of mine.

His tongue seeks entry into my mouth, and he overwhelms me with a passionate kiss.

His cock is hard and hot against my right groin, and I wriggle against the weight of him on my lower body. It would be so easy to move just a few inches down and to the left, and he would be perfectly positioned at my entrance.

**({'})** _Just one thrust._

"Edward?" I rasp, breaking off our kiss.

"Yeah?" He goes back to kissing me senseless. His tongue tangles and dances with my own; teeth nipping and nibbling at my tongue, my lips, my chin.

"You better grab a condom, or I don't think I'll be able to control myself… want you so much."

He rolls off me to the side of the bed, and he pulls the drawer of the nightstand open with such speed and force it falls to the floor.

_CRASH_.

"Shit!"

Condoms, keys, letters, photos, and other personal items scatter across the floor. Reaching down, he attempts to grab one of the condoms but manages to fall off the bed in the process.

_THUD. _

There is a moment or two of silence, and then I hear Edward's choked, "Ow."

"Shit! Are you okay?"

He groans. "I think I broke my dick. There's a weird black bruise forming on one side."

"What!" I shriek, concerned for the wellbeing of _El Capitán__. _I begin to crawl to the side of the bed to help him, but when I hear him snickering, I realize he's bullshitting me.

"You're such an ass, Edward. Don't ever joke about that!"

I chuckle when his hand suddenly pops up and then throws three different types of condom packets in my direction. One of them hits me squarely on the forehead.

"Oh… so maybe I should have yelled out '_cramp_,' instead, hmm?"

I choose the packet that boasts it's '_The closest thing to nothing at all_,' and I tear it open as he climbs back onto the bed.

"Touché," I concede, "now get your dick over here."

"Are you sure about this, Bella?" he asks as I push him onto his back. I straddle his thighs and roll the condom onto his cock. "Knowing our luck, one of us could lose a limb, or maybe an eye." He chuckles.

"Don't worry," I look up to his face and wink at him, "I promise I'll be gentle with you… well… the first time, anyway," I say as I pump his condom sheathed cock in my hand a few times. His eyes roll back, and he gasps in pleasure.

Moving up along his body, I stop until my hips are hovering above his own. Holding himself in position at my entrance, he grips my hip in his other hand and urges me to lower myself down onto his waiting cock.

Slowly, I sink down, down onto him, and I have to raise and lower myself twice in order to prepare myself fully for his invasion.

When I realize he is finally wholly seated within me, my inner walls flutter at the erotic sensation of feeling so stretched and filled. My whole body is trembling.

"Holy…" and "Shit," we gasp simultaneously.

I take in slow, measured breaths and close my eyes in order to calm myself, as I feel his cock twitch, grow and harden inside me even more.

If Libby could talk right now, she'd be welcoming _El Capitán _to his new home and demanding he never leave.

Arching my back slightly, I move my hands behind me, grip onto his thighs and start to rock my hips backwards and forwards. His hands are caressing my shoulders, and my head tilts to allow him more access to my neck.

Oh, God.

Amazing.

He feels so fucking amazing. I'm drowning in the moment; lost in the delicious sensation of his hard cock slipping, sliding, and gliding inside of me.

Just as I begin to increase my pace, I vaguely register a protesting voice. "Stop… stop, stop."

He grabs my hips and halts my movements, and I open my eyes to stare at him in confusion. My heart is immediately in my throat.

What's wrong?

Did the condom break?

Doesn't he like this?

Am I not good? I thought it felt glorious.

He sits up and cups my face in his hands before pulling my upper body towards his. He then takes my breath away with an impassioned kiss and wraps me in his arms. Without breaking our connection, he suddenly rolls me over onto my back.

I raise my eyebrow at him for changing our position, and he smiles sheepishly.

"I swear if I have to watch your beautiful pussy bouncing on my cock and your delicious tits dancing in front of my face, this…" he says, thrusting just once to punctuate his meaning, "isn't going to take long. I wanna last long enough to make you come - again."

"Don't worry. I think I can keep up," I moan, and I writhe beneath him, my body begging him to fuck me already before I die from frustration. "Please, just move. I-"

My words are cut off by mewls of pleasure as he slowly and sensuously begins to fuck me.

Wow.

Just… wow.

Such a perfect fit.

"Bella… Oh, fuck... God... you feel fucking fantastic," he pants against my temple before kissing me.

His words of praise turn me on immensely, and I tilt my hips upwards to meet with his.

His strong hand reaches down to grip my thigh, urging me to wrap my legs around him. "Need to feel you… more of you… all of you."

Deeper.

I tighten my legs around his waist, causing his thrusts to deepen. He grunts against my neck, and he emits a string of curses as he quickens his hips to keep pace with my own silent urging.

Faster.

Edward is a vigorous, and yet generous lover as he lavishes me with kisses and words of adoration.

I can't seem to get close enough to him.

Even when we aren't kissing, our mouths remain so close to each other, we are sharing breaths.

With determination to pull him even closer, my hands grip on to his waist, and the heels of my feet press down on the small of his back. My fingernails dig into his skin, and he hisses at the sensation. I'm silently begging him, "_Fuck me hard. Fuck me, so I'll still feel__ you tomorrow_."

Resting on his elbows with his arms bent underneath my back, his hands clasp my shoulders. I feel his hands tighten their grip to gain a little more leverage. His hips then begin to swivel with each thrust; grinding his pubic bone perfectly against my clit as he pounds into me over and over.

Harder.

"So… close," I cry. My feet drop to the mattress, and my hips rise to meet his forceful thrusts.

"Uhhh…fuck, yes." His voice is rough, and his head dips down to trail kisses along my throat. He then says something against my neck. "Sei mia."

Though I don't understand the words, something in the way he says them makes my racing heart swell, and I feel as though it is going to explode inside my chest.

Three more powerful thrusts and I'm coming around his cock and moaning in pleasure. My inner walls rhythmically squeeze him as his lips skim across my cheek to my mouth, consuming my cries.

"Sei mia, e io sono tuo," he whispers, smiling against my lips. Stilling his thrusts for a moment, he rolls our bodies, so I'm on top of him once again. "Now you can ride me, baby." He grins lasciviously, and his large hands grab onto my hips, urging me to move at a punishing pace. I reach out and grasp the top of the brass headboard for stability.

"Fucking gorgeous," I hear him pant, and when I look down to his face, I see he's not looking at me, but down to where we are joined.

After a minute or so, his eyelids flutter and close; his brows furrow in concentration. His breathing begins to labor, and his thrusts become erratic. His grip on my hips is so tight it's almost to the point of being painful, but I don't care.

"Oh, fuck," he says between gritted teeth as he slams into me from underneath, "Bella, ti amo così fottutamente tanto." The moment before he starts coming, I feel his cock swell within me. His hand reaches up to tangle in the hair at the back of my head and pulls me down. "Kiss me," he pleads.

Releasing the headboard, I drop down to cup his face in my hands, and I kiss the hell out of him as his body coils, tenses and then releases inside me. He groans against my mouth in a long, sexy, guttural exhalation.

And it's official. Edward Cullen has forever spoiled me for other men.

He opens his mouth to speak between panting breaths. "Cazzo!"

"Yeah. I know," I rasp, and then I lick my swollen, abused lips. I still have no idea what he just said, but I wholeheartedly agree. My sweaty forehead is resting against his sweaty shoulder, and my throat is thoroughly parched.

"Wow."

"You can say that again."

"That was…"

I raise my head to look at him. "Fucking amazing."

"Actually, I was going to go with bloody incredible, but fucking amazing works too." He smiles.

"I know, right?" I giggle.

Best. Sex. Ever.

"That was… that was… fuck... That was nothing like what I imagined for us tonight."

I brush the wet strands of hair back from his forehead. "What d'ya mean?"

"I had every intention of going slow; being all romantic and gentle, and… and that wasn't it." He winces still trying to catch his breath.

"Don't care." I lean down and kiss his forehead. "It was us, and it was perfect."

"Yeah… it was."

Just then we hear a voice coming from the baby monitor, but it's not Milly. It's Rosie.

"Edward? Can you please meet me in Milly's room with the baby monitor?"

"Good. They're home. What's the time?" he asks, as he holds onto the base of the condom and urges me to move. I lazily roll off of him and collapse on the bed in a sweaty, tangled heap.

My legs feel so sore - but in a good way. I think I used a few muscles that haven't been worked out in... well, two years.

I swear I'm gonna be walking funny tomorrow.

I turn my gaze to look at the time on the brass carriage clock on the nightstand nearest to me, but before I can answer him, Rosie's voice comes over the monitor, startling us.

"It's a quarter past two."

* * *

><p><strong>AN –  
><strong>

**Sei mia = **_**You're mine.**_

**Sei mia,****e io****sono tuo**_** = You are mine, and I am yours.**_

**Cazzo = **_**Fuck!**_

_**Yes... one of Edward's Italian phrases has been left untranslated. **_

_**_**All will be explained in the next chapter, so no need to peek at Google Translator or you'll spoil it.**_**_

**B.O.B xxx**

**_**(I mean it!)**_**


	126. Chapter 126

Edward and I stare at each other with a look of shock. He leaps off the bed and grabs the baby monitor.

"Um, Rosie? Can you... hear us?"

_"Ded-ded-ded-ded-ded."_

_"Yes, I can, you dolt. Loud and clear. You must have flipped the monitor setting from one-way to two-way. You woke Milly."_

Shit.

Turning the monitor over in his hand, he shakes his head ruefully when he finds a small switch on the base of the unit. It must have flicked over when it was accidentally dropped.

As if things weren't embarrassing enough, Esme's voice chimes in. _"And just so we're clear... the two of you owe the swear jar at least fifty dollars."_

"Oh my God, they heard us," I hiss in mortification, and then I scramble under the covers and partially cover my head with a pillow.

_"If my daughter needs trauma counseling when she's older, you are footing the bill." _Rosie laughs, and then yawns loudly._ "Now for the love of strong painkillers and a decent sleep, please put some pants on and bring me the baby monitor. Since you woke Milly, you can be the one to settle her back to sleep."_

"Okay," he grumbles.

Flicking the switch back to one-way, and then turning down the volume, he tosses the monitor onto the bed.

Lifting the pillow off my face, I watch his naked ass as he heads to the attached bathroom to dispose of the condom.

When he returns, he dresses in a pair of black sleep pants and a tight, white singlet.

"This might take a while," he says leaning down and giving me a soft kiss. You've got work in the morning, so if you're sleepy you don't have to wait up for me."

"Tell Rosie and Esme, I'm sorry."

"What for? Do you regret a single moment of what we did together?"

"No."

"Well then... we're not apologizing." He kisses me again and leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I'm about to get up to use the bathroom, when I hear faint voices.

It's then I realize Edward forgot to take the monitor with him.

_"Hey."_

_"Hey, Sis. How are you feeling?"_

_"Sore... drained... relieved."_

_"Where's Emmett?"_

_"Dad is helping him to get out of the car and up to our room. It's been a long day for him. He fell asleep during the drive home. It's going to take a while for him to build up his strength and endurance. He's absolutely exhausted."_

_"Ded-ded-ded-ded."_

_"Here. Give her to me. Go to bed and get some rest."_

_"Okay, thanks."_

_"Ded-ded-ded."_

_"Shhhh. Uncle Eddie's here. Go back to sleep, princess."_ He starts to hum a song, but on the third verse, he begins to sing softly.

"_How I wish, how I wish you were here.  
>We're just two lost souls<br>Swimming in a fish bowl,  
>Year after year,<br>Running over the same old ground.  
>What have we found,<br>The same old fears.  
>Wish you were here."<em>

When the song ends, I can hear a rhythmic patting sound.

_"Hmm. Still awake. What next? Any requests?"_

_"Ded-ded."_

_"Oh, I know... I heard this song on the radio last night. It's by The Beatles. Your dad quite liked The Beatles. When we were little kids, your dad and I used to listen to all of Grandpa Collin's old records."_

He hums the introduction and then sings.

"_To know, know, know her  
>Is to love, love, love her<br>Just to see her smile  
>Makes my life worthwhile<br>Yes, just to know, know, know her  
>Is to love, love, love her<br>And I do and I do  
>And I do."<em>

_"You know, when we move out, I'm going to have a hell of a time getting her off to sleep when she wakes up in the middle of the night. You've spoiled her. She loves it when you sing."_ It's Rosie again.

_"You'll have to train Emmett to sing to her. The White Stripes are her favorite, although tonight she seems quite partial to Pink Floyd and The Beatles."_

_"Paul would be proud she's got his taste in music."_

_"Yeah, he would. It's times like this I truly miss him the most. He should be the one singing her to sleep."_

_"I know. I miss him too. I mean, I love Emmett, but Paul will always be in my heart, too. At least Emmett understands that about me."_

Edward's deep sigh is clearly audible. _"Why are you still up? I thought you went to bed."_

_"I forgot the monitor. Where is it?"_

_"Bugger. I left it on my bed. I'll get it in a sec. Just let me tuck her in."_

_"So... have you told her?"_

_"Told who what?"_

_"Bella, ti amo così fottutamente tanto. Have you told her… in English?"_

_"That's none of your business. I can't believe you listened to us."_

_"Believe me, it wasn't intentional, and you are my business. You're my best friend, and now my step-brother, remember?"_

_"So?"_

_"It's time you took some of your own advice, little brother. Who dares wins; that's the advice you gave me back when I was struggling, or did you conveniently forget? 'Cause if you've forgotten, it's written right here in Latin on your arm, see?"_

_"Look… it just sort of slipped out in the moment."_

_"Bullsh- What a load of bollocks! If it had just slipped out, you would have said it in English. You want to tell her. What are you afraid of?"_

_"I don't know... scaring her off, I suppose."_

_"I don't think that will happen. Look, I know what you're going through, and I'm sure it'll be fine. Come on, Edward; don't screw this up. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you, and she deserves to know, so you can move forward. Just promise me that you'll tell her soon. I'm sure-"_

_"Quit your nagging, woman. I will, okay… when the time is right. I promise. "_

_"Good. I just want you to be happy."_

_"Well, I was very happy until you got home."_

_"So I heard."_ Rosie giggles.

_"Shut up, you. Go back to bed."_

_"Monitor, remember?"_

_"Right."_

I hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and I quickly make a naked dash for the bathroom. I don't want him to find out I was eavesdropping.

Turning on the faucet, I pray the water will heat up quickly as I shut myself behind the frosted-glass door of the shower cubicle.

Thank God for instant hot water and temperature presets.

"Bella?" Edward calls from the bedroom.

"I'm in the bathroom," I call out. "I decided to take a shower to freshen up. I'll be out in a moment, okay?"

"Okay then."

When I hear the bedroom door close, I turn off the water, step out of the cubicle and dry myself.

I'm mentally kicking myself for listening in on their conversation. I know I'll be up half of the night trying to figure out what he didn't want to tell me.

Curiosity killed the cat.

As I dress in my t-shirt and sleep shorts, I suddenly have an idea.

I pull out my iPhone and bring up the Safari application.

Google Translate will help me.

_**From: Italian. **_

_**To: English.**_

I type in all the words I can remember and hope I can work out how to spell them.

_**Bella cosi fotuamente.**_

In the dialog window, a message appears underneath the phrase I entered.

**Did you mean: ****Bella cosi **_**fottutamente**_**.**

I guess I did because _**So beautiful fotuamente **_appears in the answer window, which makes no sense at all.

I hit the link for the corrected phrase and the answer appears.

**So ****fucking ****beautiful.**

I smile at the answer, but wonder why he would be afraid to tell me that in English. In fact, I'm pretty sure he said that exact phrase just last night when I was in the middle of giving him a blow job.

I try to remember more of the phrase.

_Tanto!_ I think that was in there somewhere.

_**Bella cosi **__**fottutamente**__** tanto.**_

Or… maybe not.

The answer doesn't make a whole lot of sense either.

**So fucking good time.**

Maybe if I move the words around?

_**Bella cosi tanto fottutamente. **_

Move one tiny word and it changes the meaning completely.

**Bella**** so much ****fucking.**

Okay, this is going to make me insane.

There must have been more words, but for the life of me, I can't remember them.

Feeling defeated, I give up and crawl into bed, concluding _Google_ _Translator_ sucks donkey balls, and deciding that I seriously need to start learning to speak Italian.

* * *

><p><strong>AN **

**Wish You Were Here – by Pink Floyd.**

**To Know Her Is To Love Her – by The Beatles.**

**Bella, ti amo così fottutamente tanto. =**_** Bella, ****I love you**** so fucking ****much****.**_


	127. Chapter 127

_**Sunday morning – 24th June 6.40am**_

"Edwaaard."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm pretty sure my boobs are clean now."

"How can you be certain?"

"You've washed them, like… five times already."

"I might have missed a spot."

"I don't think that's humanly possible. You've wasted half a bar of soap on them, and now my epidermis is missing."

"They were quite dirty. Trust your Captain… he knows these things," he says, nodding and tapping a finger to his temple.

I look down at his hands that are now rinsing the soap off my breasts – _again_.

"They're probably clean enough that you could eat off of them."

"I reckon we should test that theory," he says, with a wicked gleam in his eye. He then slides his tongue down between my breasts before taking one of my nipples into his mouth.

I giggle and squirm. "Edwaaaaaard."

"Mmhmmff."

"Make yourself useful and wash something I can't reach… like my back."

He pouts. "Okay… turn around."

I turn around and face the tiled wall of the shower.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"That's not my back… it's my ass."

"It's downright dirty. Believe me - it requires much more of my attention than your back."

"Face facts, Edward; you just wanted to grope my ass."

He chuckles. "I think you might be right – it seems you know me so well."

He is sensuously palming soap suds over my ass and kissing the length of my shoulder. If not for the fact that only three minutes ago we had thoroughly tested the waterproof capabilities of my little purple wonder toy, I'd be raring to go.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off it. It's a really sexy arse; it's the third thing I noticed about you."

"Oh, really? You mean to say there is a list? Okay then, tell me… what was the first thing you noticed about me? Was it my boobs?"

He snickers against the skin at the nape of my neck. "No. They were the fourth and fifth things I noticed about you."

"Hmmm. Now why don't I believe you? Oh yeah… I remember - it's because I caught a certain person blatantly ogling them on the first day we met – several times, actually."

"Believe what you want, but it's the truth. And I wasn't blatantly ogling them; I was covertly checking them out. Besides which, you were the one who was thrusting them up front and center with your towel. Looking at them was unavoidable."

"Riiiight. So, what was the first thing you noticed about me?" My curiosity is undeniably piqued.

"It was your smile," he says softly.

I look over my shoulder and give him a quick kiss. "Awww. You are such a cornball… and a liar."

"It's true," he protests. "In fact, I thought you had a beautiful smile before we even met."

"Huh?" Turning around to face him, I take the rapidly diminishing bar of soap out of his hands and start soaping up his chest. "What do you mean, '_before we met'_?"

"When Rosie first looked into booking swimming lessons for Milly, she came home with a copy of the aquatic center's newsletter. She left it on the coffee table, and when I opened it, there was a picture of you and a bio. The bio mentioned how long you'd been involved with the center and the different groups you've taught."

My employee bio was in last April's newsletter, which was about three months ago, but the picture used in the article was an old publicity photo taken four years ago.

In the picture, I was in the water with a group of four and five-year-old kids from a Dolphin's class I once taught. The five of us were in the shallow end of the pool, and I was kneeling down with them in the water. We were all looking up and smiling at Alice, who had taken the photo for an article that had appeared in the local newspaper. The newspaper article had announced the aquatic center's grand re-opening after the renovations had finished.

"I see… so you read my bio and decided to stalk me at my place of employment. That's kind of creepy," I joke, as I move the soap down to his happy trail.

"It wasn't like that. I just thought you had a lovely smile. There was something genuine about it, because the smile reached your eyes… which, by the way, were the… second things I-Jesus…" he moans, and then his eyelids flutter closed, "… I noticed about you."

Smiling mischievously, I move the bar of soap back and forth between his legs.

I gently grasp his cock in my other hand, and just as I start stroking him, I hear the voice of Ellen DeGeneres singing in the bedroom.

_**Just keep swimming,  
>Just keep swimming,<br>Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming,  
>What do we do - we swim, swim, swim.<strong>_

"Is that Dory from Nemo?" he asks.

"It's my ringtone for the swimming center."

"Please, don't answer that," he begs. He kisses me hungrily, entangling my hair in one hand and wrapping his other hand around my own, which was just about to let go of his soapy cock.

_**Just keep swimming,  
>Just keep swimming…<strong>_

"I'm sorry, but I have to answer it. It could be important." He whimpers as I step back and drop the soap into his hand before quickly rinsing off and exiting the shower cubicle.

_**Just keep swimming,  
>Just keep swimming…<strong>_

Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around my chest, and I dash, still dripping, into the bedroom. Just when I manage to pull my phone out of my bag, it stops ringing.

I see a message telling me that I had a missed call from the Brandon Aquatic Center, so I try to return the call.

Immediately, I get a busy signal. I hang up and try the number again.

Still busy.

I towel off and dress in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I'll have to wait until I get to work to put on my bikini as it will most likely be damp. Edward told me earlier that when I was showering last night, he had considerately retrieved my bikini from outside, rinsed it and then left it to dry in the washroom.

Just when I'm about to call the center, my Nemo ringtone starts again.

_**Just keep swimming…**_

"Hello?"

"_Bells? It's Jake."_

"Hey Jake, what's up?"

"_I'm just wondering what time you've booked your flights for. I haven't booked anything yet, and I thought maybe we could all go together."_

"What are you talking about?"

"_You mean you don't know?"_

"Know what?"

"_Didn't Ali ring you?"_

"No, she didn't… is something wrong? Is Ali okay?" My heart is in my throat.

"_So you haven't heard the news yet?"_

"No, I haven't. Just spit it out! Tell me what's going on."

Now, I'm starting to get quite frustrated and pissed off by Jake.

Jake lets out a large sigh before speaking, as though he is preparing to impart bad news.

"_Ali is getting married tonight."_

"_WHAT!" _I shriek.

"_Um… Ali and that musician guy she just met are getting married in Vegas at 7.00pm. Apparently, they were playing on one of the progressive Megabucks slot machines at the Excalibur Casino last night, and he won a shit load of money. They've been showing the footage on the news this morning. He won the second highest jackpot in Megabucks Slots history, and then he immediately dropped down on one knee and proposed to her."_

"Oh my God!"

This is unbelievable.

Edward's head peers around the bathroom doorway looking concerned. His face is partly covered in shaving cream.

"How much did he win?" I ask.

"_Somewhere between thirty-five and thirty-six million."_

"Oh. My. God!"

"What's going on?" Edward asks.

"Your cousin is marrying my best friend tonight, and last night, he became a multimillionaire."

"You're joking," he says incredulously.

"Jake? Is this a joke?"

"_No way. I'm deadly serious. I'm surprised Ali hasn't called you yet. As we speak, Joe's on his way to SeaTac to catch a flight, and most of our employees from the center are making travel arrangements to head to Las Vegas for the wedding. For the moment__, I'm__ going through the booking sheets and getting in contact with our customers. I've been told to tell them we'll be closed until Wednesday."_

Just as Jake is explaining that he and Leah will be traveling to Las Vegas together, my phone chimes.

"Gotta go, Jake. I just received a text message. Bye."

"_Okay. If it's a message from Alice, call me back on my cell so we can book flights together."_

"Okay."

I hang up and look at my phone screen.

It's a text message from Alice.

_**Hey Belly,**_

_**I need you to bring my mom's wedding dress to Vegas! Please call me back ASAP.**_

_**Love - Ali xxx**_

I've barely finished reading the text when there is a knock at the bedroom door.

"Edward? Are you awake?" It's Esme's voice. "I just got off the phone from my sister, Rachel. It seems we've been invited to go to Las Vegas. Jasper's getting married."


	128. Chapter 128

_**Monday morning – 25th June 8.40am. **_

I'm sitting at one of the café tables in the McCarran International Airport terminal with Esme '_parties-like-its-1999' _Cullen.

Our flight back to Washington leaves in about thirty minutes.

My wonderful boyfriend, Edward _'take-me-now'_ Cullen, is still standing in line at Starbucks waiting to order our coffees.

I need caffeine.

_STAT!_

I feel like death warmed over.

Apart from yesterday's thirty-minute power nap - during our flight _to_ Las Vegas - I've been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and the hangover from Hell has finally hit me.

We partied hard last night and right through to this morning.

Alice and Jazz have just taken off for their honeymoon.

They're on their way to London, and they will stay in the Brook penthouse suite at Claridge's for four nights, before heading off to Mauritius for ten days of relaxation and pampering at a five-star hotel in paradise.

I'm jealous as all hell, because I think I need a two-week holiday just to get over this weekend.

Jake and Leah are staying here in Vegas for another night, taking advantage of the second night of accommodation in the Jacuzzi King room, which was an inclusive part of Jazz and Alice's "_Happily Ever After_" wedding package at the Excalibur Hotel.

Lucky little shits.

Some of us actually have to be back at work on Tuesday.

Alice wasn't kidding about the exterior of the Excalibur Hotel. It certainly did look like something out of a fairytale cartoon. Alice looked positively radiant in her mother's wedding dress. Although, to be honest, she'd be the first to admit she looked more like a mermaid than a Disney princess.

Even so… she was stunning.

The ivory silk dress was figure-hugging, with off-the-shoulder straps, and a sweetheart neckline. It was delicately embroidered and beaded from the bust line to the knees. From the knees to the floor, the dress flared in a gauzy tulle mermaid-like tail.

The style of the dress helped to make Alice's petite, slender figure appear curvier. Jazz was positively awestruck when he first saw her at the end of the chapel on her father's arm, and he couldn't take his eyes off her the whole night.

I had always thought Alice would be an overbearing Bridezilla, but surprisingly, she was totally relaxed about everything - even when it was discovered her mom's wedding tiara wasn't in the box with the veil as she had thought it would be.

For every potential setback or failure, she seemed to breeze through the day with the air of someone who just knew it would all work out in the end.

And it did.

It was Alice's unwavering degree of certainty - that she was somehow cosmically predestined to marry Jazz - that caused me to forget about convincing her to call off the wedding, or delaying it. Instead, it compelled me to support her 100%.

Edward and I stood as the attendants on either side of Alice and Jazz during the ceremony in the Excalibur's Canterbury Chapel.

Seeing Edward wearing a tux is almost as good as seeing him wet and naked.

Okay… that's a blatant lie, but he still looked phenomenal.

Alice and I had been fortunate enough to find a bridesmaid gown we both genuinely liked from the first store we ventured into.

The gown's single shoulder strap was embellished with rosettes, and it's A-line skirt fell to just above my knees. It was made from a lustrous, garnet-colored silk taffeta, and its color reminded me of the natural deep-red highlights in Edward's hair that can only be seen in the bright sun.

Edward certainly appreciated me in the dress. At the start of the ceremony, he'd mouthed, '_You look so hot,_' to me as soon as the minister started the proceedings.

I don't think either of us heard a word of the ceremony as we hungrily stared at each other the whole time. He had to be asked three times to hand over the rings.

During the reception, I had dragged him by the pants loops to our hotel room for a quickie up against the wall while we were still mostly dressed in our wedding attire.

I love the metallic clinking sound his belt makes when his pants drop and gather around his ankles. I've decided I want to record the sound and make it my new ringtone for him.

And I especially love hotel rooms with tall mirrors on the wall.

We had thought we were being so sneaky by slipping away between the main course and dessert, when the guests started to get up and dance. Mistakenly, we had believed no one would miss us.

However, the bride wasn't fooled.

Alice wasn't upset, though. She was just envious because she wished she could have gotten away with it, too.

Ah… good times.

It's just a shame I'll probably never get another opportunity to wear the dress, but typically, that's the way it is with bridesmaid dresses.

I already have four such _one-hit-wonders_ in my closet at home.

At least the killer _fuck-me-heels_ Alice bought for me will get more mileage.

In fact, they already have.

This morning, about an hour before we left the hotel, Edward had asked me to put them on again.

And then he'd taken me over the end of the chaise longue.

Accidentally moving hotel furniture is a lot of fun.

God I wanted to take that chaise longue home with me.

Great memories.

Unfortunately, we ran out of time before we could test out the king-sized bed.

I yawn loudly, and Esme does likewise.

Yawns are so damn contagious.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly.

"That's okay. I'm exhausted, too," Esme confesses and then she yawns; which in turn, makes me yawn again.

"I must say, Esme, you and your sister are quite the table-top dancers. I'm impressed. You've got some pretty hot dance moves for an old lady… and a bit of a potty mouth, too."

Esme laughs ruefully, winces in pain, and then covers her eyes with her hand. "Please, don't remind me. Far out… I haven't been that drunk since college. If Carlisle had been here, he would've kept me in check."

"Come on Grandma, you've gotta let your hair down sometimes. Ugh. I don't suppose you've got any Tylenol or Motrin in your bag?"

"Actually, I just might." Esme rummages around in her cavernous handbag for a minute before producing a battered looking sheet of Tylenol. "Here you go, take what you need. You can pass me a couple of those, too. In fact, make mine a double. Oh, my dear lord… my aching head. What was the name of that alcohol Alice introduced me to again?"

"That would be _Jägermeister."_ I pop out two Tylenol for each of us, and then I swallow them down dry. It's not something I'd ever recommend doing, but desperate times call for desperate measures since I have no coffee yet. "God bless your soul. Thanks Esme."

Esme looks at her watch. "Geez. What's taking him so long?" We both turn to look at Edward, who barely seems to have progressed in the long queue. The Starbucks counter looks as though it's being manned by Tweedledee and Tweedledum-ass today.

We only have a few more minutes to go before we'll need to head for the boarding gate for our flight back to Washington.

Edward notices we're looking at him questioningly, and he shrugs.

"I'll tell him not to worry about it; we can get coffee on the plane. I'm going to use the restroom before we have to board. I hate using restrooms on planes 'cause I have this ridiculous fear of being sucked out of the plane through the lav. You and Edward should head towards the boarding gate, and I'll meet you there." Esme stands and passes her handbag to me to take care of, before walking off to speak with her son.

He comes back to the table, and I stand to meet him. "I'm so tired," he whines and then yawns.

I yawn too. "You're not the only one."

I can see he is on the verge of yawning again, and I have to look away from him, or I'll never stop the yawning cycle.

He takes my hand in his, and we shuffle along slowly towards the boarding gate. I'm groaning as I walk.

"Are you okay? Are your feet hurting?"

I shake my head. "I'm just a bit out of condition. I've used a few muscles that haven't been worked out in a few years… if you know what I mean."

His smile is smug (as it should be) and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I promise that when we get back to Washington, we can spend the rest of the day at your place in uninterrupted peace, catching up on sleep. When we wake up, I'll make those tacos I promised to feed you on Saturday night, and then I'll give you a massage. How does that sound?" He kisses me on the temple.

"Sounds like Heaven," I sigh.

We find some seats in the boarding lounge and collapse into them. I rest my head on his shoulder.

"My thigh muscles are so sore." I snicker softly.

"Yeah… you were walking kind of stiffly. I'm sorry."

I look up at him, and he smiles.

"Believe me, I'm not." I smile back at him sleepily.

I start thinking about Alice, and then I chuckle to myself. I know that soon I won't be the only one who's walking funny.

That's because Alice Brandon… err… Hale, is still a virgin – technically speaking.

Whereas I had naively regarded my V-card to be a burden that needed to be removed by the first willing participant, Alice had always regarded her own virginity as a gift for her future husband. She had vowed to remain a virgin until she got married.

Alice fooled around in other ways, but she was intent on saving the _act of_ _intercourse_ (yes, those were her words) for her honeymoon.

Yesterday, as I was helping Alice to apply her make up, she'd confessed that she and Jazz hadn't even seen each other naked. They'd even slept in separate rooms the previous night – just for the sake of being traditional.

Alice asked me so many questions about sex. She'd made me out to be some sort of sexpert.

"What are you smiling about?" he asks, looking amused.

"I was just thinking about Alice."

_**Tuesday morning – 26th June 4:00am.  
><strong>_

_**All the single ladies (All the single ladies)  
>All the single ladies (All the single ladies)<br>All the single ladies (All the single ladies)  
>All the single ladies...<strong>_

My phone is alerting me that Alice is calling. I guess I'll have to find a more suitable ringtone for her now that we're no longer sisters-in-arms.

Groggily, I open my eyes. It's still dark, and I wonder what time it is.

Rolling over, I look at the green digital read out on my bedside clock.

Fucking bullshit.

I pick up my phone from the bedside table to answer the call.

"What the fuck, Alice! Do you have any concept of what time it is over here?"

"Belly, I have a code pink emergency." The sound of Alice's voice is somewhat echoed, and I have to wonder from whereabouts she's calling.

"Alice, in case it has slipped your mind, you are in London, and I am in Olympia. How on Earth can I help with a code pink situation at four in the morning, when you are on another continent? Besides, doesn't your penthouse suite come with a butler? Just send your flunkey to get you all the pads, tampons, morning-after pills, pregnancy tests or bolt cutters you could possibly need."

"I don't need pads and tampons! I just need some advice on how to approach my husband's penis."

I almost choke on my own spit.

"Geez, Alice. It's a tad late for the birds and the bees talk, don't ya think? Just stick tab J into slot A and move around a bit. I already warned you that it might be uncomfortable the first few times, but it will get better. Honestly, it won't bite you. It's just a dick, not a wild animal. You don't need to approach it with a chair and a whip-"

In the background, I can hear someone knocking and a muffled pleading voice that must be Jazz.

"I'll be out in a minute," Alice says in a loud sing-song voice. "I'm just going to take a shower."

I then hear the sound of running water.

"He's pierced!" she hisses into the phone.

"Say what?"

"He's pierced. He's got this thingy called a 'dolphin piercing' along the underside of his wiener."

"Do I even want to Google it?"

"Probably not."

I sigh. "Ali, I don't even know where to begin with that."

"Well, now you know exactly how I feel! We were just getting undressed to get into bed when I saw it. I asked him what it was, and then I ran into the bathroom."

Poor Jazz. He's probably beside himself with worry. I'll bet he never envisioned his honeymoon starting off with his new bride locking herself in the bathroom.

"Look… all I can suggest is that you tell Jazz how worried you are about it since it's going to be your first time. I'm sure he'll understand. Just tell him to take it real slow… or maybe ask him if he can take out the jewelry the first few times."

"I suppose… I guess I'll ask. Failing that, there's always the option of bolt cutters."

I laugh. "Yeah… good luck with that."

I could just envision a naked Jazz cupping himself protectively while being chased around their honeymoon suite by Ali wielding a set of bolt cutters.

"Thanks for listening, and for the advice."

I sigh. "Any time. Now go and be with your new husband. He's probably freaking out and wishing he'd made you sign a pre-nup right about now. And call me later to let me know how it went. I don't mean the gory details either - just let me know if you guys are okay. Okay?"

"Okay. Love ya, Belly."

"Love you too, Mrs. Hale. Good luck."

"Thanks."

I hang up the call and then turn to look at the empty space beside me, wishing once again that Edward was here.

My phone is still in my grasp, and I type out a text.

**I miss you. ~ B x**

Thirty seconds later there's a reply.

**I miss you, too. - Ed xxx**

* * *

><p><strong>AN - A ****Dolphin**** piercing is where a Prince Albert piercing is attached to another, deeper Prince Albert. This piercing is most commonly done using a curved barbell, giving the appearance of the jewelry diving through the surface of the skin, hence the name. The result being you only see two captive balls on the underside of the shaft of the penis that are spaced approximately 5/8****th**** of an inch apart. **

**For those of you who want visuals (of the wedding chapel and dresses – not Jazzy's pierced wiener) copy the URL and remove the brackets to make the slideshow work ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/alice-weds **


	129. Chapter 129

_**Thursday - September 13**__**th**__** – 2:10pm**_

_Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep._

I stop writing to stare down at my pager.

Noting it's a summons from the Allied Health Department, I reach for the nearest phone to return the call.

_"Allied Health Department, this is Maggie speaking. How may I help you?"_

"Mags; It's Bella."

"_Special delivery for Miss Swan," _she says in an excited sing-song voice.

My heart feels like bursting from the news, and I promise Maggie I'll return to the department at 2:30pm, as soon as I'm finished in the Outpatient Clinic.

I hang up the phone and quickly sign my notes before calling in the last patient.

Making my way towards the Allied Health Department, I'm unable to stop the grin from overtaking my face. People walking by me probably think I'm insane. I'm smiling goofily at everyone and everything as I pass them by.

Edward has been sending me flowers once a week ever since we've been together. Although he's currently overseas, he hasn't yet failed to send me a weekly bouquet.

Silently, I ponder what the meaning of today's flowers could be.

I wonder if he remembers today is my birthday.

The first week he was away, he sent me variegated tulips. Maggie informed me that they were a way to say I have beautiful eyes.

The following week, he sent a bouquet of striped carnations, which according to Google, meant he was saying he was regretful he couldn't be with me, but wished that he could.

As far as I'm aware, he's currently flying Bell 212 helicopters as part of an eight-day Army Jungle Warfare Instructors course. He'll be transporting the course participants into the jungle, helping to medevac the injured as well as providing command support.

We had only been together for ten weeks when Edward had to leave for the U.K. before heading off to Brunei with his regiment.

Although he's no longer in the Regular Army, Edward still has to fulfill his compulsory Reserve liability, because he was only in the Regular Army for nine years. RA personnel who complete less than fifteen years in the service must compulsorily enter the Regular Reserve.

As he is a commissioned officer, his Reserve liability has fortunately been reduced by two years. For the next four years, as a member of the Regular Army Reserve of Officers, Edward will have to return to the Army for sixteen to nineteen days a year for obligatory training.

It may also mean he could be recalled and deployed at any time in the event of a national emergency.

**({'}) **_God forbid._

**({'}) **_Doesn't the Army understand how much I need my __El Capitán?_

Oh, yeah…Guess who's back?

**({'})** _Nobody knows the trouble I've seen… nobody knows my sorrow._

Right now, Libby's a bit depressed.

Even sex toys don't seem to cheer her up.

I feel as though we're back to square one.

I hadn't heard any complaints from her ever since the first (and consequently, only) time we'd made love at Edward's mom's house. However, I could sometimes hear Libby humming happy show tunes.

Libby returned in full-force approximately three days after Edward left to head over to the U.K.

**({'}) **_That's right… the bitch is back!_

If she's like this now, I dread to think what could happen if he is ever deployed.

I have no idea how Rosie (and her mother before her) managed to cope with the separations. For me, the torturous weeks apart have been too long, and I've missed him so much.

Rosie has been wonderfully supportive and has helped me to feel less lonely without Edward. She's become a great friend to me.

Given that she endured months and months of separation from Paul during their relationship, I half expected her to say, "_Suck it up princess_." Instead, she surprised me by going so far as to invite me to Cullen-McCarty family dinners twice a week, and last week she organized a girl's night out that included Alice, and Leah, my stepsister.

Dad and Sue were married two weeks ago.

The ceremony was a relatively quiet affair for fifty or so people. Dad was only able to take off a week from work for a quick honeymoon in Vancouver. He wants to save the rest of his leave entitlement for when the baby comes.

Edward was disappointed to learn he wouldn't be here to support me during Dad and Sue's wedding. However, he was positively devastated when he realized he probably wouldn't be back in time for my birthday.

I told him my birthday was, '_no big deal_,' but he was adamant it was a day that should be celebrated. So tonight, Ali, Rosie, Esme, Leah, and my new stepmom, Sue, are taking me out for dinner tonight at The Broho.

Edward will be returning on Saturday around lunch time. I'll be picking him up in his car, and apparently we'll be going out to dinner on Saturday night to celebrate my birthday - just the two of us.

I had protested, saying he'll probably be exhausted after thirty or so hours of traveling, but he insists he'll sleep on the plane. Plus, he argued the nine and a half hour layover in Seoul, means he'll be able to check-in to the nearby Incheon Hyatt Regency for a few hours of sleep before the final leg of his journey - the eleven hour flight from The Incheon Airport to SeaTac.

I can't wait to see him again.

Since that first night alone, after we had returned from the Hale's wedding in Las Vegas, we found we couldn't bear to be apart at night.

Some nights Edward stayed at my place, while other nights I stayed with him on the boat at the Swantown Marina.

My bed feels so cold and empty at night without him. It takes me ages to fall asleep.

The thing I've particularly missed though is our weekends at the cove.

Friday nights after work, we would sail to Gallagher Cove, and depending on the weather, we either stayed on the boat or camped on the lawns in our newly purchased three-man tent. We continued our tradition of cooking over the fire pit, drinking wine, and dancing to soppy love songs on the radio.

However, there were two things we made sure of. Firstly, we changed the night the automated sprinkler system was set to come on from Friday, to Sunday; and secondly, we always made certain we had a ready supply of unexpired condoms.

Edward spoke with Aro, who was more than happy for him to moor the boat on a permanent basis at Gallagher Cove. His regular presence on the property will allow him to act as a custodian while the house remains unoccupied, thereby saving Aro a total of four hours traveling time per week to and from the cove.

Since the work on the new private pier has finally been completed, Edward will easily be able to access the house and his car as needed.

As I open the door to the Allied Health Department, I can see Maggie is literally bouncing in her seat.

"In your office," is all she says, smiling from ear to ear.

I turn left and head towards my office. The moment I open the door, my mouth drops open in surprise.

"Oh, my God!" I squeal, and I race forward to throw myself into his arms. "Oh God, you're back!"

**({'}) **_Oh_, _El Capitán, baby! Come here to Momma._

We hold each other tightly, and I pepper his laughing face all over with kisses.

"I should go away and come back more often if this is the welcome home I get."

"Don't you dare!" I say with my face smooshed against his neck.

I'm breathing in deeply; savoring his scent to convince myself that he's actually here.

Suddenly, the realization hits me - he's home two days earlier than scheduled.

Why?

With a single exhalation of breath, my questions pour from my mouth so rapidly my sentences seem to run together. "You're here? Did something happen? What happened? Why are you here? Are you okay? How come you're home two days early?"

He merely chuckles at my explosion of verbal vomit. "I can always leave and come back on Saturday, if you'd prefer."

"Absolutely not! Just hold me, please. I _need_ you to hold me." I sigh heavily, feeling as though I can finally breathe properly because he's back.

Now knowing how it feels to be separated from him, even though it was just three weeks, I'm starting to dread my trip to Sydney at the end of the year. Edward hasn't yet confirmed whether he's going to crew on Alec's boat in the Sydney-Hobart race, and my mom is still acting weird whenever I talk to her on the phone, or make any mention of staying with her for a few days during the Christmas holidays. She rang me earlier today to send her birthday wishes. Then she apologized for being unable to mail my present on time as she'd been unwell.

We embrace for what seems like ages before pulling apart.

"Seriously, is everything okay?" I ask. "You're not injured are you?" I briefly survey his body for any injuries I may not have noticed before forcibly launching myself at him with the speed of a cannonball. However, it's hard to tell if he's carrying any injuries due to the baggy, gray hoodie and the black, relaxed fit jeans he's currently wearing.

"I'm perfectly well. I decided not to tell you that I was returning a little earlier than I'd first anticipated, because I wanted to surprise you on your birthday. I hope you're not mad at me."

Taking my hand and lifting it in his own, he spins me around, as if we are ballroom dancing. I end up facing my desk with our hands linked and our arms resting across my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder and then places a kiss on the side of my neck.

There lying across my desk is a beautiful bouquet.

How had I not seen them the second I walked into the room?

"Happy birthday, beautiful," he says as I disentangle our entwined fingers. I walk towards my desk to look at the roses properly.

As I hold the perfect blooms in my hands, my eyes take in their numbers and color.

Eleven red roses.

And thanks to Maggie, who had earlier in the week emailed me with some website links, I already know what they mean.

Turning my body to pull me back into a hug, he whispers into my ear. "I missed you so much, and I should have told you this before I left, but I was worried you might think it was too soon…"

I pull back to look at him, and I can see the adoration in his expression is marred by a small shadow of anxiety.

"I… I love you, Bella," he states, his voice thick with emotion. He seems to hold his next breath in anticipation of my reaction.

"I love you, too," I reply immediately, and then I throw myself against him once again and kiss the Hell out of him. Breaking our kiss for breath, we rest forehead to forehead.

Opening my eyes, I attempt to focus on him. "Thank God," he sighs. His eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. "I love you," he says again, his lips brush against my own as he says the words; the words I've longed to hear since our first night at Gallagher Cove.

I don't think I will ever tire of him saying that phrase.

I pull back to kiss his eyelids and then his cheeks. "Look at me, Edward."

He opens his eyes, and his penetrating gaze seems to stare straight into my soul.

"I love you so much, and I really wish you had told me before you left, too; but… this is perfect. This is the best birthday present. Thank you."

He kisses me again.

"I've wanted to tell you for such a long time. I just couldn't say the words; I was worried you'd think I was coming on too strong. I didn't want to scare you off or smother you. I just sort of hoped you had some idea of how I felt about you; how much I cared."

"Actually, I think I already knew. The flowers you sent… they were your way of telling me how you felt about me, right?"

He nods in confirmation and then grins widely. "So you figured it out." He then shakes his head ruefully as if he can't believe I knew what he was trying to say the whole time. "How did you know? When did you realize?"

"Maggie's been teaching me about the language of flowers from the very first time you gave me the thorn-less, red-tipped, yellow rose. She used to work in her aunt's floristry shop as a teen. Each time you sent me flowers, she translated their meaning for me. Though, you did manage to stump her with the striped carnations, so we Googled."

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "Argh! Oh no, my wooing wingman, Google, has been discovered." He chuckles, and I laugh with him." That Maggie is a sneaky one. She kept that little tidbit of information from me earlier when I walked in here with these roses." He chuckles again before becoming serious. "So… do you know what these mean?" he asks while running a finger along the hand that's clasped around the base of the bouquet.

I nod. "Red roses mean _'I love you',_ and they are the ultimate symbol of romantic love and enduring passion."

He smiles at me, and I can see the anxiety has vanished from his expression, only to be replaced by pure love. "And do you know what the number of roses means, too?"

"Yes. The strongest message of love comes from a bouquet of eleven roses. It tells me, I'm your treasured one; I'm the one you love most in your life."

Taking the flowers from me, he places them to one side of my desk.

I begin to giggle when I realize I'm being pressed backwards onto the surface of the desk, and we nearly knock over my red, potted Gerbera Daisy in the process.

He begins to kiss me in earnest, and I quickly forget we're in my office and that the door is open. That is until Nettie starts to clap slowly and cat-call from the doorway.

"My eyes! Must protect my innocent eyes," Tia groans jokingly while peeking through the spaces between the fingers of the hand covering her face.

"Now normally I'd suggest you two take this elsewhere, like the Physical Therapy room downstairs, but the three of us have a meeting scheduled with Doctor Gerandy in about five minutes," Nettie announces.

Just the mention of the Physical Therapy room causes me and Edward to start giggling like a couple of kids.

Moving off me, he then extends his hand to help me stand. He kisses me quickly and whispers into my ear, "We'll continue this later."

I feel my chest and neck flush with heat and excitement at the prospect of what '_later_' might entail.

"Okay, well I best be off home then," he says. "Can I grab my car keys from you? Rosie picked me up from the airport, and I asked her to drop me off here, so I could see you straight away."

"Yeah, sure." I open my filing drawer and pull out my handbag.

In the weeks before he left, Edward had been helping me in my search for a secondhand car, as I can't afford a brand-new one. However, every time I came close to buying something, he'd find some fault with the car, or else he wasn't happy about the way the salespeople conducted their business.

He was utterly exasperating, but he explained he just wanted to make certain I bought a car from a reputable dealer, and that it was safe and reliable, so I didn't end up losing my money by buying a lemon.

As I drop the keys to the Volvo onto his open palm, he asks, "Do you want me to pick you up after work? We can go out to dinner for your birthday."

"Oh, shit! I completely forgot! Your mom and Rosie have organized a birthday dinner for me at The Broho tonight with Ali, Leah and Sue. It's just going to be us girls. I had no idea you were coming home two days early. I'm sorry."

"Oh." He looks crestfallen.

**({'})** _Cancel it!_

Shut up, Libby!

**({'}) **_I want sex!_

When don't you want sex? Geez, you have a one-track mind. Surely, you can wait for a few more hours.

I won't disappoint the girls by fobbing them off just because Edward decided to turn up early and unannounced.

**({'}) ***_huffs_*****

"You can always come by later," I offer. "Stay at my place tonight?"

He grins. "Why don't I pick you up after work, and then I'll stay at your place while you're at dinner? That way, you can drive to The Broho. It's gotta be better than catching the bus home from work, and it will save you from having to catch a cab later."

Hmmm. Let me think about it for a nanosecond.

Crowded bus and a five-minute walk home through the rain that's predicted for later today, versus being chauffeur-driven by my boyfriend who loves me.

"Okay, that sounds great."

"Good. Shall I pick you up out the front at around four-thirty?"

"Sure."

Edward says goodbye to Tia and Nettie, and then he kisses me again before picking up his large army kit bag and a smaller duffle bag.

As soon as he's out the door, I quickly find one of the vases I have in the office to keep Edward's flowers as fresh as possible until I can take them home.

While I'm filling the vase with water from the cooler in the hallway, I hear the sound of Maggie's laughter.

I look down the hallway towards the reception desk to see what she's laughing at, only to see Edward is leaning in close to her and speaking in hushed tones.

When he leaves, Maggie turns and startles, when she realizes I'm standing here.

She seems to blush and then looks at me with a guilty expression that I don't understand.

**({'}) **So w_hat the fuck was that about?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen - by Louis Armstrong.**_  
><em>


	130. Chapter 130

_**Thursday - September 13**__**th**__** - 7.00pm. **_

"Are you ready yet?" Edward yells from the living room. "If you don't hurry up, you're gonna be late."

"Almost," I call out, as I put on my new favorite pair of shoes - the _fuck-me_ heels Ali bought me for her wedding. I intend to keep them on (and nothing else) after I return home from The Broho.

**({'}) **_Happy birthday to me!_

I'm wearing the sun dress Ali originally made for my birthday, and I will take a light cardigan with me in case it gets cold or if it rains.

As I exit my bedroom, I see Edward standing expectantly by the front door.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"You look beautiful," he says walking towards me, and then he kisses me on the side of my mouth so as not to smudge my lipstick too much. "You're too beautiful to leave the house, stay here with me."

"I'd love nothing more, but I can't let the girls down. They've been looking forward to tonight since the beginning of the week, when Rosie started to organize everything."

He nods sadly and then walks with me to the front door.

When he opens the door, I'm surprised to see not only the Volvo in my driveway, but another unfamiliar car.

Well, the car is sort of familiar, but different… if that makes any sense at all.

It actually looks a lot like Ali's Porsche Boxster, but rather than being a luminous, canary yellow, the car parked in my drive is a gorgeous metallic, sea-green color.

Ali and Jazz get out of the car and walk towards me.

"What happened to Tweety?" I ask, referring to her car by the nickname I had christened it with, when she'd bought it two years ago.

While I genuinely liked the car, the color left a lot to be desired, in my opinion. It was so bright you could close your eyes and still see it. I guess Ali finally saw sense and traded the other one in.

It must be nice to have so much money to be able to change cars on a whim.

"Happy birthday, Belly," Ali says as she drops her keys in my hand.

"Happy birthday, Bella Marie, Jazz says after giving me a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

I look down at the keys attached to Ali's yellow leather Porsche keyring. "You want me to drive us to The Broho in your new car?"

Alice giggles. "I think you mean in your new, secondhand revamped car."

"Huh?"

Surely she doesn't mean…

"This is our combined birthday gift to you," Jazz says. "Ali's giving you the car. I paid for new tires and the engine modifications. Edward paid for the exterior paint to be stripped and resprayed, and for the interior to be reupholstered."

My jaw drops so far that I swear my temporomandibular joints are protesting from the strain of over extension.

Turning to look at Ali, I protest. "But… but… you love that car!"

"I know, but come April next year I'm gonna need more than two seats."

"Wha- huh?"

"I'm thinking I might get myself one of those soccer-mom cars… you know… like Edward's Volvo." She giggles.

"Hey! My car is not a soccer-mum car, short-arse!" Edward retorts. "My car is manly and brutish."

Suddenly, it all falls into place.

"Ali? Are you…?"

Ali nods. "Almost ten weeks. So you see? This is my gift- our gift to you. I know you'll take good care of her."

I reach out and hug both Ali and Jazz. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you. And thank you, thank you, thank you for the car. I'm just… stunned; overwhelmed. It's too much, but thank you."

I release my friends from my fierce embrace and turn to look at Edward with a cocked eyebrow. "So this is the reason why you asked what my favorite color was, and why you were being so difficult when we looked at secondhand cars."

My new car is now the same color as my boyfriend's eyes. I wonder if he realizes why I had told him sea-green was my favorite color.

He laughs and looks at me sheepishly. "Yeah… I'm sorry about that, but I had to keep it a secret, or else Ali would have killed me. This was all her idea."

I look to Ali. "You mean to say Edward knew you were pregnant, but you didn't tell me?" I'll admit I feel a little bit hurt about that fact.

"Oh, Belly. Edward only found out because he correctly guessed I was expecting. He noticed I was drinking Ginger Ale and refused alcohol the last time we all went out to dinner. Then a few days later he came over to visit Jazz, and he saw I was taking ginger tablets and wearing sea-bands on my wrists. He said Rosie did the same thing for pregnancy nausea. I swear out of everyone else besides me and Jazz, you are the second person we've told. I haven't even told my dad he's going to become Grandpa Joe yet. Originally, I wanted to wait until the second trimester to announce it to everyone, but I couldn't stand keeping this secret from you."

"It's okay… I understand; and I'm just so excited for you. Oh my God! You're gonna be a terrific mom!"

"Thanks, Belly. Now, we should get going. Care to drive me to dinner in your new car?"

"You bet!"

I kiss Edward goodbye and solemnly swear to Jazz that I will drive well under the speed limit to keep his baby-momma safe.

-oo0oo-

"SURPRISE!"

The sound hits me like a blast wave just as a multitude of colorful streamers are launched towards me. I jump in shock at the unexpectedness of it all. I then put my hand over my heart to calm myself down and take a steadying breath.

Standing here in front of me is almost everyone I truly care about.

Dad is here with Sue.

Seth and Leah are here with Jake and another woman whom I presume to be Seth's new girlfriend, Rebecca.

Rosie, Emmett, Milly, Esme, and Carlisle are all here, too.

Then there are my work colleagues; the ones I'm closest to – Tia, Nettie and Maggie.

Overwhelmed, I feel as though I'm going to cry.

I thought this was just going to be a quiet dinner for five, and now… this is a party.

Not that I'm complaining… at all.

You see, I've never had a proper birthday party before.

For me, there was no sweet sixteen; no eighteenth or twenty-first parties.

Last year, on my thirtieth birthday, I stayed at home and cried buckets because I was no longer in my twenties. Then I consoled myself by eating an entire tray of homemade dark chocolate, rum and raisin, triple-choc dipped fudgesicles – extra heavy on the rum.

I feel a pair of warm, muscular arms snake their way around my waist, and I catch the smell of his cologne. I smile contentedly and turn around to face him.

In my peripheral vision, I see Jazz walk in to the room. He gives me a lopsided smirk, and then plants a kiss on my cheek once more before heading straight for Ali.

In front of everyone, Edward then gives me a toe-curling kiss, throwing in a backwards dip at the end, so I have to grab onto him tightly around his neck.

And suddenly, everyone claps and cheers and laughs along; however, I only have eyes for the man holding on to me.

"You did all of this for me?"

He nods and then smiles.

"So how long have you been planning all of this then?"

"A while," he says and then winks, "but I had a lot of help."

I'm so grateful my tears begin to spill over. I hug him tightly. "Thank you, Edward," I say against the skin of his neck.

"Happy birthday, la mia bella donna. I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN -** **La mia bella donna = My beautiful woman.**

**P.S. If these last two chapters gave you tooth cavities... I know a few dentists.  
><strong>


	131. Chapter 131

_**Thursday November 22nd – The Brotherhood Lounge – 2.00pm**_

**({'})**_ One of these things is not like the others,_  
><em>One of these things doesn't belong,<em>  
><em>Can you tell which thing is not like the others,<em>  
><em>By the time I finish this song?<em>

Ever feel like the odd one out?

Right now, as I stare at the four women sitting across from me, I feel it - acutely.

Once again, the people I care about most in the world are gathered around the large banquet table of The Brotherhood Lounge.

The only person missing is Seth's girlfriend. Unfortunately, Deputy Rebecca drew the short straw and is working the front desk of the police precinct. I wish she was here. We'd happily be getting our drunk on right about now.

It's Thanksgiving, and today The Broho is closed to the public, opening only for those nearest and dearest to the Cullen family, so we can celebrate the holiday together.

Since the night of my 31st birthday party, it seems our families have become closely interwoven.

For instance, my stepbrother, Seth, and Ali's husband, Jazz, found they shared a common love of music. In their spare time, they've been setting up a home recording studio in the basement of Jazz and Ali's new house, so Jazz and Seth can jam. While Jazz misses the music industry, he's pretty sure he's made the right decision.

Not long after my birthday, Jazz's band broke up. He decided he couldn't bear to be away from his pregnant wife for months at a time while touring, so he decided to invest a substantial amount of his time and money into making Ali's dream a reality. For a long time, Alice has entertained the idea of expanding the Brandon Aquatic Center to incorporate the adjoining gym that closed down a few years ago.

Jake was recently promoted from his position as a part-time manager to a full-time role. He's taken over most of Ali's duties, and he's been working closely with Joe Brandon. The change in staffing has allowed Ali and Jazz to focus on their new endeavor, and last month, work on the expansion commenced. In addition to the pool, the Brandon Athletic Center will feature state of the art gym equipment, a steam room, sauna, whirlpool, and an exercise-yoga-dance studio. Plans are also in the works to add on a pro shop, café, and kid's club.

Dad and his oldest friend, Billy Black, often get together with Carlisle. On their days off they enjoy fishing and boating, but mostly they just kick back, drink beer, and have a laugh. The times they have actually managed to catch more than one fish each, have coincidently been the times when Edward and Jake have gone along with them.

Sue and Esme found they both enjoyed redecorating, so Esme helped Sue to convert my old bedroom at Dad's house into a nursery for the new baby. Now they are both in the process of helping to set up nurseries for Ali and Leah, who are both halfway through their pregnancies.

Yeah… Leah.

As it turns out, Ali wasn't the only person losing their virginity the weekend of the Vegas wedding back in June.

Leah managed to deflower Jake in the Jacuzzi King Room at the Excalibur Hotel, in what was (up until that point of his existence) probably the best thirty seconds of his life.

Jake then managed to impregnate Leah '_I-was-so-drunk'_ Clearwater just two weeks later, on the weekend of her and Seth's 21st birthday party.

Currently, she's twenty-one weeks pregnant.

Here's a tip, people: - edible condoms are meant to be used for giving head and should never be relied upon for contraceptive purposes - just sayin'.

Ironically, the baby is due on the first of April.

Leah and Jake are engaged. They are tentatively planning to get married next year, once the baby has been born, and the weather is warmer.

Dad, Carlisle, Billy, Jazz, Seth, and Jake are all off playing a rowdy game of pool on the other side of the room.

Joe and Emmett are watching on, while Emmett rocks Milly to sleep in her push chair.

Esme is in the kitchen with Edward, and they are busy getting the desserts and coffee organized.

So that just leaves me at the table with Rosie, Sue, Ali and Leah.

Sue is in the process of teaching the girls how to knit cardigans and booties as they consider their Black Friday sales tactics. They are planning to head out early in the morning to get the best bargains on baby items.

Sue and Ali are both knitting with blue yarn. Leah is knitting in pink, and Rosie is knitting with white.

I can't knit to save my own life, and I have to work in the morning.

**({'}) **_Did you guess which thing was not like the others? __  
><em>_Did you guess which thing just doesn't belong?__  
><em>_If you guessed __**this woman**__ is not like the others,__  
><em>_Then you're absolutely... right!_

Shut the fuck up, Libby. You're not helping.

**({'})** _Hmmm. Someone's premenstrual._

If the hormone headache I can feel building up in my left temple is any indication, then yes, I'm probably premenstrual. I pull my iPhone out of my coat pocket and bring up the menstrual calendar application.

Yep. Due on Sunday.

I scroll to next month to see when I'm due again.

Ugh. Lovely. Two days before Christmas.

Not so Merry Christmas for me and Edward then.

**({'}) **_There's always New Year's Eve sex! _

I bring up the Awesome Note app and add tampons to my list of things I'll need to pack for Sydney.

In a huff, Rosie drops her knitting needles on the table in front of her. "Get off my freakin' bladder, kiddo," she complains, while rubbing at a spot low on her belly, "it's not a bloody bouncy castle in there."

Sue gazes at her in empathy. "Tell me about it. I swear I was up to the bathroom six times last night. This little boy better prepare himself to turn around soon, or we are going to have stern words." Sue then looks down at her belly accusingly. "No one needs to have their bladder treated like a football in the middle of the night." She then points to a place just below her left breast. "Right now, his head is pressed up under my ribs, and it's so damn uncomfortable."

"Ugh. I had shocking heartburn again last night. I had to sleep sitting up for half of the night in the recliner," Ali whines. "Just when I thought I was going to start enjoying pregnancy - when the unrelenting nausea finally stopped - the reflux started."

Leah is sitting back looking smug. She seems to be the only one of these four women who has breezed through pregnancy with zero complaints so far. She wasn't even aware she was pregnant until she realized she'd missed two periods.

**({'}) **_I hope she gets hemorrhoids and stretch marks._

When Sue, Rosie, Ali and Leah start comparing pregnancies and guessing baby names, I start to zone out.

As much as I would dearly love to, I just can't relate to what they are all going through right now.

I turn sideways in my seat to watch the guys play pool.

As usual, Seth and Jazz are cheating. Those two are as thick as thieves.

Dad, Carlisle, and Billy, are too busy to notice what Seth and Jazz are up to, as they are eagerly discussing next Saturday's fishing trip.

Jake, tired of the frequent cheating and waiting for Carlisle to take his next shot, gives up, choosing to play a game of darts with Emmett instead.

Escaping into my own thoughts, I continue to enter the finer details for my trip to Australia into my phone. It's only weeks away.

Edward confirmed he would be able to help crew Alec's boat in the Sydney-Hobart race. Once the formal part of the conference is over, Edward will join me as my date for the Guild dinner at the Taronga Center. The dinner should be a lot of fun as it's a themed affair.

According to Tia, last year's Speech Pathology Australia conference was in Darwin, and the theme for the Guild dinner was, 'A touch of the tropics'. She told me how everyone had dressed up in Hawaiian styled shirts, bikini tops; grass skirts, leis, and flip-flops.

This year's theme is, 'Into the water'. I've decided I'm going to wear a pair of swim shorts, neoprene aqua-shoes, swimming goggles, and my instructors swim shirt.

I smile as I think of what Edward will be going as. He's going to be dressed as a-

"Hey, Bella!" Suddenly, Rosie is waving a hand in front of my face in an attempt to snap me out of my private musings.

I look up from my phone. "Huh?"

"Did you hear a single word I just said?" Rosie is laughing hysterically, as are the rest of the women around the table, including Esme, who has finally finished piling the middle of the banquet table with sinful desserts.

"Um… no?" I look around the room, and I can see Edward has joined in with Emmett, Jake, and Billy for a game of darts.

"We were talking about the S.O.S. blog; remember that website? I mentioned it to you the other week."

"Err, yeah… vaguely," I lie.

"Remind me to email you the link," she says. "You've gotta read it. Anyway, as I was saying…"

I pretend to act as though I'm disinterested and stare down at my phone again.

Of course, I know the blog Rosie is referring to.

In fact, you could say I know it intimately… particularly as Edward and I co-write it.

After we posted our review of the clit vibrator on the '_Lovers Blog_,' Makenna had told us the online sales and in-store enquiries for the product were remarkable. So impressed by the honest and lighthearted way we had written the review, Makenna approached us with a proposal.

In exchange for testing products and blogging the reviews, we get freebies or discounts.

At first I was reluctant, but Makenna said we could pick and choose which products we felt comfortable reviewing, and she assured us our anonymity would be a tightly guarded secret.

We had to come up with pseudonyms for the blog, so we borrowed from our middle names – Anthony and Marie.

Tony and Rie, the authors of the blog, therefore, came into being.

We also decided to change the name of the blog.

New reviews appear on Sundays, so the blog was revamped to become the 'Sex on Sundays' blog - known as _S.O.S._

Surprisingly, S.O.S. is a massive hit, and it's garnered a lot of attention; not just online, but from some of the local media outlets and manufacturers of adult products. Makenna has sales reps literally knocking down her doors to get their products reviewed by Tony and Rie.

Most of what they offer are run-of-the-mill solo items which don't really interest us. We prefer to review products that are innovative and couple orientated.

Ali laments, "Oh my God; I wish my sex life was like Rie's. Did you see the review they did on the 'Love Is Art' kit'? That was a-maaaazing! And from the way Tony writes about her, I swear the woman must be double-jointed. When I'm not pregnant, I want to get the pink and black kit, and I'm going to hang it up in our bedroom."

_Shit!_ It looks as though I'll have to take our black and gold masterpiece off the bedroom wall for a while, just in case Ali ever decides to come over and recognizes our canvas from the blog.

I guess I'll put it in the spare bedroom for now, along with the 'Sex Chaise' that was delivered yesterday. The '_Esse_,' a more affordable version of the Tantra Chair, will feature on the blog on the first Sunday of December; once we've had a chance to try it out a few times, of course.

They all start giggling and then convince Ali that she should make Jazz wear the pink paint. From across the room, Jazz seems to hear his name mentioned. He's quick to realize he is the topic of conversation, and he smiles cheekily at Ali, who blows him a kiss in return.

"Yeah, me too, but I want the wedding edition; the one with the vanilla-scented candles and bath salts. It will be on my wedding registry - _hint, hint_." Rosie and Emmett are planning to get married again in February.

"I'll tell you, though; I'm so glad they reviewed those Liberator shapes a couple of weeks ago. With the baby belly, it was getting quite awkward to do _it_ in certain positions, but after their recommendation, I bought the wedge and ramp combo, and it's actually helped," Ali says enthusiastically.

Sue pipes in, "Oh, I could have told you ages ago how brilliant they are. Charlie and I bought the black- um… we… um… bought the same combo a few months back."

Oh, dear Lord.

**({'}) **_Bwahahahahaha._

I think my turkey dinner is about to revisit the back of my throat.

Sue thinks she caught herself just in time, but, unfortunately, I know better.

She was about to spill the beans that she, and my Dad, have the 'Black Label' version of the same product – the one with the inbuilt wrist and ankle restraints.

Kill me… now.

Esme joins in, "Hmmm. It seems as though I'm going to have to look up this blog, too! Sounds like fun."

"Ew. No! I don't want to think about you and my dad having a sex life." Rosie cringes and then chuckles.

"What? You don't think me, and your dad can get our freak on, as you young people like to say?" Esme laughs and then pretends she's about to launch into details about what she and Carlisle get up to in the bedroom.

Rosie sticks her fingers in her ears. "Lalalalalalalala. I can't hear you, old lady." She giggles before confessing, "Seriously, I'm thankful for Sunday mornings when Edward takes Milly to the waterbabes class. Whenever I read S.O.S., I want to jump Em afterwards. Tony sounds as though he's a God between the sheets. I'd love to see what he looks like. I'll bet he's really hot in real life, too."

Ali and Rosie both nod and then sigh dreamily.

**({'})** _Okay… Now that's just awkward._

"What I'm dying to read, is next Sunday's review," Leah says. "I want to know what Tony did to Rie to make her come so hard that she gave him a black eye."

All the women around the table burst into laughter… except for me, because I'm trying hard to pretend that I have no idea what they are talking about.

"Speaking of black eyes," Leah continues while arching an eyebrow, "how did you get your black eye again, Edward?"

All eyes, including mine, turn to look at my boyfriend, who I realize is standing right behind me. I wonder how much of the preceding conversation he's heard.

Now, more than ever, I'm so thankful for our pseudonyms that allow us to write it how it is without fear of being exposed - especially when it actually matters - like right now!

Although much of the bruising has faded, a small, yellowish-purple mark is still evident just below the lower lid of his right eye.

"Golf ball," he replies nonchalantly, without twitching an eyelid or blushing.

"Really?" Ali says suspiciously, lowering her gaze to look at me. "I thought you said it was a baseball."

Edward's hands are resting on my shoulders, and I just feel the tips of his fingers as they imperceptibly tighten against me. He realizes I've fucked up our alibi to explain away the black eye I caused two weeks ago.

We had been going at it doggie-style when he'd sneakily slipped in a buzzy little somethin' somethin' where the sun don't shine… if you know what I mean?

**({'}) **_And I think you do..._

I had reared back so suddenly, during the uber-intense orgasm it had caused, that the back of my skull accidentally head-butted his face – _really_ hard.

Our cries of pleasure were quickly replaced by Edward's groans of agony, and then my tears of concern and sobbed apologies.

Unfortunately, I discovered I was once again out of ice cubes and frozen vegetables.

I had to convince a reluctant Edward to uncoil his body from a fetal position on the bed, and to move his hands away from his face, so I could gently place a homemade, triple-choc dipped, Cointreau fudgesical condom icepack over his rapidly swelling eye in an attempt to reduce the bruising.

While it didn't do much for the bruising, it at least managed to make him laugh.

Thinking on my toes, I explain to Ali, "It happened at the Marvin Road range. You know how they have a golf driving range, mini-golf course, and the baseball batting cages there? Well, Edward was in the batting cages, and suddenly this golf ball just comes out of nowhere and hits him right on the face. _BAM!_"

Ali, convinced by my explanation, says, "It sounds as though someone needs to be schooled in the etiquette of golf. They should have yelled out a warning; you could have lost an eye, Edward."

As Edward reaches forward to place two pieces of my famous decadent chocolate cake onto a plate, he murmurs seductively near my ear, so no one else can hear him, "Yes. Perhaps _someone_ should have screamed out, '_FORE!_'"

I turn my face to whisper in his ear. "Et tu, Brute? It works both ways. Next time you're going for a hole-in-one, don't aim for the bunker without warning me first, you hack. Try that again, and I'll give you another divot, and then you and your seven iron will be disqualified from tapping into the cup from that approach."

He chuckles and speaks lowly again. "Oh, so you think I'm a hack now? I'll keep that in mind for when we pair up later for the grand slam. I'll take great pleasure in showing you just how expertly my _eight_ iron can swing along your tight fairway." The tone of his voice sends a shiver of desire right through me.

**({'}) **_Helloooo! I'm a water hazard right here, right now! Let's go home. Time to putt out, __El Capitán._

"Game on," I whisper, and I dart my tongue out to brush briefly against his earlobe before pulling back to look at him.

Desire is rolling off both of us in waves, and we smirk at each other knowingly, oblivious to anyone else who might be watching us. I have to bite my bottom lip to hide my wicked smile when I see him close his eyes, as he shakes his head slightly in an attempt to regain his wits.

Edward takes his plate of dessert with him, and I watch his ass as he returns to stand near Jake and Emmett.

I turn and look back towards the ladies at the table who are seemingly preoccupied by their handiwork.

Leah cocks an eyebrow as she looks at me past her knitting needles, but she smiles and says nothing.

-oo0oo-

_**8.00pm.**_

We've barely shut the front door of my house, and already Edward has me pressed up against the wall of the entryway.

He's unbuttoning my coat and feverishly kissing the length of my neck. The coat falls to the floor, leaving me in my navy-blue dress and black heels. He pulls at my V-neckline, exposing more of my skin to his lips.

"How about you… and I… go into the spare bedroom? We can test-drive the new sex furniture before we go to bed," he says against my shoulder before nipping me with his teeth.

**({'})** _YES!_

I don't answer him directly.

Instead, I grab him by the lapels of his black jacket and turn him around, so he's the one with his back to the wall.

I run my hands up his chest and then over his shoulders, so his jacket ends up falling halfway down his back, and the sleeves fall to the level of his elbows.

I then unbutton his gray pinstripe shirt, and once again, I trace my hands over his shoulders, causing his shirt to fall halfway down, effectively trapping his arms by his sides.

Reveling in the sounds of his moans and deep breaths, I kiss a path down his chest and abdomen, and then quickly kneel before him to undo his belt buckle, jeans button, and zipper.

When his jeans fall to his knees, I place a languorous kiss over the skin of his right hipbone, and then slowly trail my tongue just above the waistband of his boxer briefs, all the way across to the other hip bone.

He gasps in surprise when I accidentally-on-purpose allow my chin to brush against the tip of his cock which is straining against the confines of his underwear.

I look up at him to gauge his reaction to my teasing.

He looks down at me and quirks an eyebrow. "So, is that '_yes'_ or '_no'_?"

Standing up, I lean one hand on his chest and take off my high heels, haphazardly tossing them behind me, not caring in the least where they land.

I pull down the sleeves, and the waist of my jersey knit dress, and I let it fall to the floor to become a puddle of fabric at my feet, revealing my latest lingerie purchase to his gaze. I'm in a sheer, black, bra and panties set with matching garter-skirt and lace-topped stockings.

Unable to move his arms and legs properly, Edward is thwarted in his attempt to grab me, and he nearly stumbles.

I lick my way along his jaw line before breathing my answer next to his ear. "It's a definite '_yes_,' but you'll have to race me."

Edward pulls back and looks at me quizzically.

"First one to the spare room gets to be on top." I give him a wink and then turn around, knowing he'll see I'm actually wearing a thong for once.

**({'}) **_Oh, the things I put up with, just for this man._

I hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck me… is that a-"

"Catch me if you can, Captain," I call over my shoulder as I casually begin to wander towards the spare bedroom.

Behind me, I hear him grunt with the effort it takes to toe off his shoes, and hastily pull off his shirt and jacket, all while he is essentially bound at the knees by his jeans.

-oo0oo-

_**Sometime later… I honestly don't care what time it is right now.**_

"Fuck, fuck… fuck. Your arse looks so good from here," Edward grinds out between gritted teeth.

Gripping my hips tightly, he's making me go slow – excruciatingly slow – and I just know he's watching my body taking all of him in.

Becoming impatient to come, I pull against his iron-like grip, urging him to let me go faster.

"Rallentamento, ragazza avida."

Just when I can feel the orgasm beginning to bloom deep within my belly, he slows us down again, and we change positions.

This chaise is the best thing ever. I want to fuck seven ways from Sunday on this thing, and I'm halfway to achieving my goal.

_Pearl._

_Butterfly._

_Reverse seated cowgirl._

_Rocking chair._

I look over my shoulder and give him a smile before a jolt of pleasure rocks through me as he thrusts up inside me, meeting my insistent downward stroke.

Edward is lying semi-reclined on the chaise while I'm riding him, but I know it won't be long before he decides to take over. He loves to be the one on top; the one in command.

Thanks to the design of this chaise, it means he can touch so much more of me. His hands are all over me, caressing my shoulders, my back, and my ass.

Edward sits up and kisses my mouth - desperately.

His hands move around my body and begin to touch my breasts, my belly, my inner thighs; my clit. Between kisses along the back of my neck, he tells me how good I make him feel, and how much he loves me.

Seamlessly, we are able to change positions again without breaking our connection, so now he's the one behind me and on top; he's the one with _all_ the control.

"My turn now," he states, urging my shoulders forward, so I'm lying face down along the gently curved upper end of the Esse. He then positions my legs, so I'm kneeling and straddling it. "Hold on tight."

With one hand gripping the back of my neck and the other on my hip, Edward slams into me from behind, hard and fast. He knows it's exactly the way I like it, and it's not long before his fantastic eight iron has thoroughly mastered my tight fairway, except, we both manage to win.

Right before my climax renders me senseless, I cry, "Fu… Fu… _FORE!_"

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Libby was singing "One of these things" from Sesame Street. ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/one-of-these-things (remove brackets).**

**Love is art – ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/love-is-art**

**You can google the other stuff mentioned. ;o)**

**Translations. **

– **Rallentamento, ragazza avida = **_**Slow down, greedy girl.**_

**If you want to know what the golf terms really mean, remove the spaces to follow the link. ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/golf-terms**

**B.O.B xxx**


	132. Chapter 132

_**Saturday morning – December 15th – early'ish in the day. **_

"Stop your wriggling." I snicker against his skin and then kiss it.

"_Nyugh_. I can't help it. You're tickling me."

The muscles of his abdomen clench, and I snicker again as I take another swipe at the purple letter 'P' with my tongue.

Edward whimpers and then squirms against my hands that are holding his hips down to the mattress. "You need to do it harder, or I'm going to go insane."

**({'})** _That's what she said._

"That's the plan, amante." I hope I pronounced the word correctly. My Italian is slowly getting there.

Very slowly.

Well, I know a lot of Italian curse words and a few words of endearment.

Edward and I are making the most of each other today. Tonight, after an early dinner, I'll be heading off to Australia. I'm not looking forward to twenty hours of flying.

The plane to Los Angeles leaves Seattle at 7pm, and then from L.A., I'll fly to Sydney, arriving there somewhere around nine-thirty on Monday morning.

I'll have a day to recover from the jet lag, and to find my bearings, before Tuesday morning's conference registration.

For now, though, I'm having breakfast, and I love to play with my food. Plus, we need to store up a few product reviews for the blog to cover our times apart from each other.

I take a long, slow lick of the next letter, tracing the shape of it with the pointed tip of my tongue - the letter R.

Edward's abs clench again, and I watch him bite down on his lower lip as he tries to stop himself from writhing. "Payback is a bitch, you know, Bella. Just you wait."

"Mmm. The purple is yummy - tastes like blackcurrants."

Edward looks downright sexy.

He's wearing his black tie – the one with the thin, white, silver, lavender, and blue diagonal stripes. Currently, the tie is wrapped around his head, to serve as a blindfold over his eyes.

"Lem'me try some." He starts to move from his supine position to sit up.

"Lie down and put your hands back behind your head," I demand, pressing my hand on his chest to force his upper body down to the mattress again.

Pouting, he places his hands beneath the pillow, and he grips on to it tightly. "You're killing me here. How long are you going to tease me?"

"As long as it takes." I move lower to taste the inside of his right thigh, erasing the green word, 'OF,' from his skin. "Apple. Mmm," I moan. "That's a delicious one, too."

He takes in a deep, shuddering breath. "So, what did you write on me?" he asks.

**({'}) **_PROPERTY OF BELLA SWAN._

"You mean you weren't paying attention?" I tease. "Tsk, tsk."

"If you wanted me to pay attention, you shouldn't have started with my dick."

**({'})** _Guess who owns your dick now?_

I chuckle. "Amuse me. Take a guess."

Edward starts to answer, but his words are replaced by a deep moan as I take that particular moment to lick the underside of his very stiff cock, all the way from base to tip, to erase the word, 'BELLA,' which was written there in yellow, edible gel-paint.

Edward thrusts his hips upward, seeking extra attention from my mouth. He whines and then pouts adorably, when he doesn't get what he wants. I smack my lips noisily, removing the remaining traces of gel-paint from around them.

"Figured it out yet, bell'uomo?"

He shakes his head. "No," he rasps. "I think you'll have to do that last one again." He thrusts his hips up in hope.

I crawl towards his face and kiss him deeply. His tongue plunges into my mouth, tasting me; tasting himself.

Pulling back from the kiss, he licks his own lips. "Tastes like bananas. I suppose you think you're being funny by giving me a banana tasting dick." He grins cheekily. "Wanna suck on my big, hard banana again, baby?"

I snicker. "You have a one-track mind." I kiss his chin and then make my way down towards his left thigh where my surname is written in red. He whimpers in frustration because I'm not going where he wants me to be.

Using the flat of my tongue, I take a long, upwards lick.

And then gag.

I quickly crawl up the bed and reach towards my nightstand for a Kleenex, so I can scrape the offending taste off my tongue.

"Ugh, gross."

"Huh?" Edward's head moves in my direction, and he takes his arm out from under the pillow. I grab his wrist before he can raise the edge of the blindfold.

"I said, keep your hands behind your head," I warn.

He huffs in frustration, but complies and puts his hands under the pillow again.

"_Pappffth. Ppppfff. Blurgh." _I spit out the reddish-colored edible gel-paint into the tissue, and then shudder from the hideous aftertaste. "Yuck_._"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's disgusting. I thought it was supposed to be cherry flavored. Guh! It tastes like cherry and bathroom chemicals. Ha un sapore di merda!"

I shudder again and then grabbing another Kleenex, I start to wipe the letters 'S' and 'W,' from the skin of his inner thigh.

"Good thing you didn't put that one on my dick." He chuckles. "So, is it my turn yet?"

"No. I still have to finish off the leftover blackcurrant; plus, I wanna get the nasty cherry taste out of my mouth."

I position myself between his thighs once again, and just as I finish swirling my tongue around his navel, erasing the purple letter, 'O,' from around it, the doorbell rings.

Insistently.

And incessantly.

_Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong- ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong._

And it rings.

And rings.

And rings.

"Who the fuck is that on a Saturday morning?" I gripe.

"Don't answer it."

_Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong- ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong._

_Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang- bang._

Whoever it is, they're about to break the door down.

"Open up, Belly! It's an emergency."

"Fuck! It's Ali."

"Ignore her," he pleads.

_Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong. Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang._

"Swan! Get your ass out of bed and get dressed. We've gotta go!"

"That's Leah."

"Bella, just go and yell at them through the door and tell them to piss off."

**({'})** _Agreed_.

"You! Stay! Stay right here, and don't move a muscle. We're not done yet."

"Too bloody right we're not done yet." Edward stretches, arches his back slightly, and then languorously relaxes his body. "I want my turn. Your tits are in for a severe tongue lashing." He grins and then laughs wickedly.

I laugh as I throw on my black silk, kimono-style robe over my white 'Hello Kitty' cami and panties. Bending forward, I place a quick kiss on the head of his cock, which causes Edward to jolt in surprise, and then hiss through his teeth.

"Such a fucking tease. When you get back, your arse is mine, too."

"Promises, promises." I chuckle.

_Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong. _

_Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang._

"I'M COMING! Jesus. Keep your hair on. Cazzo!"

Edward snickers as I stomp my way out of the bedroom towards the front door.

"What in the hell do you want?" I yell as I nearly wrench the door from its hinges due to the velocity at which I open it. I'm fuming mad.

**({'})** _Don't you ladies realize that you are interrupting some extremely vital research?_

"Well, good morning, sunshine," Ali says cheerily.

I briefly fantasize that I can stare laser beams at the two women standing before me, so their heads will implode. "Make it snappy. I'm busy. I have a plane to catch."

"Well, if you can bear to drag yourself from Edward's dick for just a few hours, the 'rents are requesting our presence at the hospital," Leah says.

"Hospital?"

"Mom's water broke two hours ago. She's in labor, but they're just about to take her in for a caesarean because the baby is still in a breech position."

"Well, why didn't they ring me earlier?"

"Charlie said he tried, but it kept going to voice mail," Leah explains.

"Shit! Stupid phone."

My iPhone has been playing up a lot lately. Some days, the battery seems to be on the fritz, or I'll be using it, and I'll get the_ black screen of death _and have to reboot it.

Suddenly, Leah and Ali's expressions change from exasperation into smirks of amusement.

"What's going on out here?" Edward asks.

I turn around and see him.

Edward is standing there with just a small, white bath towel wrapped low around his waist.

He is mock-scowling at Ali and Leah. "Why are you two still here? Go away! Shoo!"

Ali giggles. "It looks as though someone needs to go back to school. That's not how you spell '_pretty'_." She points at Edward's abdomen.

Leah bursts into laughter when Edward looks down at his abdomen and sees the remaining faint letters that seem to have stained his skin purple… along with the arrows… that are pointing towards the general vicinity of his towel clad cock.

**PERTY**  
><strong>l l<strong>  
><strong>V V<strong>

"I'm sure your dick is a real _purdy _one," Leah drawls," but is it really necessary to advertise it, Edward?"

"You better hope this stuff comes off, Bella," Edward grouses as he licks a finger and attempts to wipe off one of the downward pointing arrows from off his abs.

It doesn't work.

**({'}) **_Merda!_

My hand claps over my mouth as I attempt to stifle my laughter.

Leah and Ali are laughing unabashedly hard.

Ali is nearly wheezing, and tears of laughter start to appear in Leah's eyes.

Edward just rolls his eyes and stalks back to the bedroom as Leah and Ali push their way past me to enter the house.

He reappears less than a minute later wearing black sleep pants and a singlet. "So, why are two of the four Teletubbies here again?" Edward asks.

Leah and Ali turn to glare at him.

Teletubbies was the nickname he collectively gave to Sue, Rosie, Ali and Leah one day when they were all parked on the sofa in front of the television at Esme's house. He was lucky the sofa was so soft and plush that they had difficulty getting out of their seats; otherwise, he may not have made it out of the room with all of his limbs intact.

**({'})** _Word to the wise, Edward. Never call a pregnant woman, 'tubby.'_

"Sue's in labor and they're about to take her into the operating room for a caesarean," I explain. "They've been trying to get in touch with me, but the calls have been going to voice mail. So, why didn't Dad try Edward's phone?" I ask, looking towards Leah.

"He did, but he got the same thing - straight to voice mail."

"Yeah, I think I may have left my phone in the car overnight," he says apologetically.

"Okay. So I guess they want us there at the hospital for support?" I ask Leah.

Leah nods. "Yeah, Seth is there now. He picked them up in a patrol car and drove them both to the hospital. Charlie didn't feel safe driving Mom when she was getting contractions every few minutes. Jake is outside. He's waiting for us in the car."

"Well, give me a few minutes to get showered and dressed, and I'll drive over and meet you there. Okay?"

"Do you want me to come with you?" Edward asks.

I smile at him in appreciation, glad to know he wants to be with me during such an important family event.

"Yeah, sure."

-oo0oo-

"It's a boy!" Dad says in greeting as he comes striding through the open sliding doors of the operating suite.

We all knew they were expecting a boy, but still…, it's gratifying to know all the scans were correct.

He sees me and moves quickly to give me a hug. In his excitement, he spins me around. My father suddenly looks years younger – like a giddy first-time dad.

"Congratulations, Charlie," Edward says, moving forward to shake hands as soon as Dad releases me from his bear hug. Dad ignores Edward's hand, and he gives Edward a big hug instead.

Dad's enthusiasm and joy are infectious, and I'm almost moved to tears to see him so happy.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Charlie. What's our brother's name?" Seth asks.

"Embry," Dad announces proudly. "His name is Embry Joshua Swan. And kids, your mom was just brilliant through the whole thing," he says looking at Leah and Seth. His eyes are positively shining. "She's doing well. They're just putting in the last few stitches, and then they'll clean up and take her to recovery for a while."

Both Seth and Leah move in to hug dad at once. "I love the name," Leah says, kissing my dad on the cheek.

Joshua was Grandpa Swan's first name, and I wonder if the name Embry has some significance to Sue's family.

"Congratulations, Chief. How much does he weigh?" Ali asks, giving dad a warm hug and a kiss.

"Good to see you here, Ali. He's nine pounds, eleven ounces, and he's got a full head of dark hair."

"Hell! That's big, isn't it? And to think, he came early," Jake says incredulously, putting his arm around Leah's shoulders. "Imagine how big he might have gotten if he'd waited until New Year's Day when he was due."

"Well, I've got to get back in there to be with Sue and Embry. I just wanted to share the news. Bella, although she's tired, Sue would love to see you in the maternity ward once she gets back, so you can meet your brother," he says looking at me. "Can you hang around for a while? What time do you have to head for the airport?"

"Of course I can hang around," I answer, "and I don't have to leave until five. Edward and I will just go and get some coffee and something to eat. Give one of us a call when you're both ready. We won't be far away."

-oo0oo-

**({'})** _I'll bet Sue's vajayjay is grateful this kid came out of the sunroof instead of the trunk. He's huge! She gave birth to a toddler!_

I'm holding onto my newborn sibling and staring down at his chubby little face. It's hard to say who he resembles more, Sue or Dad. He seems to be an equal mixture of both of them.

His eyelids flutter open briefly, and he begins to make small movements with his mouth. He's starting to wake.

"Hey, little guy. I'm Bella, your big sister."

He looks up at me with an expression that could be interpreted as a look of confusion.

"Yeah. This world is a pretty confusing place at first… but you'll get used it, little brother."

I lean forward and kiss his forehead. He smells like lavender and powder. He smells delicious.

Dad said he gave Embry his first bath while Sue was still in the recovery room. It took a while for Sue's blood pressure to come up before they could send her back to the maternity ward.

Embry's head starts to move back and forth and his lips pucker, as though he is in search of a boob.

Realizing I'm the wrong person to satisfy his current requirements, his face scrunches up in protest, and he starts to cry. He sounds like a little lamb.

"I think that's my cue to give him to Sue," I joke. I stand and give Embry back to Dad who gently brushes kisses on his son's forehead before passing him to Sue.

I almost shed a tear, watching my father dote on his son. Although, like me, Embry was unplanned, I know my father will love and protect him as much as he did me.

Embry calms down instantly, and then he nuzzles against Sue's chest.

Instinct is a wondrous thing.

I give my Dad a hug and then bend down to kiss Sue on the forehead. "He's lovely. Well done, you two. I can't wait to hold him again when I get back."

Sue kisses me on the cheek in return. "Thanks, Bella. Thanks for being here. Have a safe flight and I hope you have a great Christmas and New Year. We'll miss you, but we'll see you when you get back."

I kiss Embry on the forehead again and watch as Edward says good-bye to Dad and Sue.

Edward, at Sue's request then pulls the privacy curtain across as we leave. Taking my hand in his, we exit the room and leave the parents alone with their new baby.

As soon as we step into the corridor the first person we run into is Emmett.

"Em?" Edward says in surprise.

"How did you two find out we were here so quick?" Emmett asks in amazement.

"What do you mean? We were just here visiting with Sue and Dad. Sue gave birth to my new brother, aren't you here to visit them?"

Emmett laughs and then shakes his head. "Look out; here she comes."

Edward and I both turn around and we see Rosie being wheeled into the same twin-share room as Sue. There is another nurse following them who is pushing along a newborn baby in a Perspex crib.

"Hey, you two!" Rosie says enthusiastically. "Can you believe it? I just gave birth in a bloody ambulance! Three pushes and she was out."

Edward bends down and gives Rosie a hug. "Congratulations, sis."

I look at the tiny, pink bundle. There is a name card attached to the top of the crib. It says, '_Baby Girl Cullen-McCarty_'. She looks to be half the size of Embry.

The nurses continue to push both the wheelchair and the crib into the room and we follow.

"Honestly, I don't know why they are keeping me here. I feel like a million bucks right now," Rosie says, standing up from the wheelchair and choosing to sit in a chair, rather than on the bed. "I feel as though I could walk home."

"They just want to run the usual newborn health checks, fill out the paperwork and give her a few immunizations," the midwife says. "Maybe wait until all the birth endorphins have settled down before you start reaching for your walking shoes."

"I tell you, it was even easier the second time around. The doc downstairs says if I'm planning on having any more babies after this one, I should make sure I don't cough too hard in the last month of pregnancy, or I might just give birth in the middle of the street." Rosie laughs loudly.

"Rosie? Is it you?" The curtain between the two beds is drawn back just far enough so that Rosie can peek between the gap and speak to Sue while she is feeding Embry.

"Oh, my God! You're here, too?" Rosie squeals. She stands up and moves closer to the curtain. "Oh, Embry Joshua; isn't he just divine."

"Thanks."

"Wow! He's a strapping lad! How big?"

"Nine pounds, eleven."

"Holy crap, Sue! I presume they had to do the Caesar?"

"Yeah, he was still breech. No way was he ever coming out naturally. So, what did you have?"

"Milly has a brand-new sister. She's seven pounds, two ounces," she answers proudly.

"What's her name then?" Dad asks.

"We're still deciding. We've narrowed it down to two names. We'll give it a couple of days and see which one sticks. Well, I'll leave you be. We'll chat later."

Rosie closes the curtain and walks back to the chair. Reaching into the crib, she takes out her sleeping daughter. "Come 'ere, Uncle Eddie, and hold your niece."

Edward steps forward and takes the tiny, pink bundle out of her arms. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to me and holds the baby close to his chest without the tiniest hint of trepidation that one would expect of most guys who hold a newborn that is not their own.

He loosens the swaddling wrap slightly, and four perfect fingers and a tiny thumb spread out to grasp onto his little finger. Her slate-blue colored eyes, slowly open and close, and then she makes a barely audible noise that sounds like a little squeak. She falls back to sleep with her hand still clasping his finger.

**({'})** _He's a natural. *sigh*_

Edward looks up at me and smiles.

*Boom*

*Boom*

**({'}) **_Thar they blow!_

Damn my stupid, spontaneously combusting ovaries.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – I'm going to take a few days off from writing over Easter as I will be going away on holiday to become reacquainted with my family. Apparently, my kids may have some trouble recognizing me. I imagine our reunion may go something like this…**

_Child #1 - "Daddy? Who is that stranger in the front seat next to you?"_

_Mr. Bliss - "She's your mother. You may not recognize her, though, as she normally has a laptop screen in front of her face."_

_B.O.B (turns around to face the back seat) - "Oh, hey kids! I'm your Mum. Remember me?"_

_Child #2 - "Hewlett-Packard? Is it… is it really you? I mean… you sound just like her, but your face isn't flat, metallic, and shiny." _

_Child #1 - "Praise Jebus! It's an Easter miracle!"_

**Translations:**

**Amante = lover.**

**Bell'uomo**** = handsome man.**

**ha un sapore di merda = it tastes like shit.**

**Merda = Shit!**

**Cazzo! = Fuck!**


	133. Chapter 133

_**Monday, December 17**__**th**__** - 9.20am.**_

_Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

"_Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent, please lower all armrests, and return __seat backs__ and __tray tables__ into their full, upright positions. Ensure your __seat belt__ is securely fastened, and that your __carry-on baggage__ is stowed beneath the seat in front of you, or in one of the overhead bins. We ask that you turn off all __electronic devices, and keep them turned off,__ until we are safely parked beside the aerobridge at the terminal. Thank you. Flight attendants - prepare for __landing__. Cabin crew, please take your seats."_

Removing the listening buds from my ears, I give up on the local music station, choosing instead to watch our approach into Sydney airport through the window.

The nanosecond I bring my seat to its upright position, my back, ass, and neck simultaneously protest at the change in position. I groan as my hips make a popping sound that even my fellow passengers can hear.

Garrett snorts at me arrogantly.

**({'})** _Garrett is a dickwad._

Peter, who is sitting in the aisle seat, looks beyond Garrett to give me a look of empathy as he moves to straighten his own seat and fasten his belt.

"How old did you claim you were again, Bella?" Peter asks in amusement with a cocked eyebrow.

"Shut it, you. I'm not old. I'm just… crunchy."

Peter chuckles at me.

Garrett rolls his eyes.

Flying economy sucks donkey balls - even if we didn't have to pay for our own airfares. It's not as if Garrett (the pretentious snob) had to endure an earlier flight to L.A. like Peter, and I did either. To add insult to injury, my flight from Seattle had been kept in a holding pattern over LAX for an extra half hour due to another plane making an emergency landing.

**({'})**_ You've been sitting for so long, I feel kinda numb._

Peter and Garrett, I discovered, once they opened their laptops to look over their presentations, were also invited to speak at the conference in Sydney. Garrett is a speech pathologist based at The Children's Hospital in Los Angeles, whereas, Peter works at the Center for Hearing, Speech and Language in Denver.

A flight attendant appears at the top of the aisle, and she announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at Kingsford-Smith Airport. Please make sure, once again, that your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently walking throughout the cabin to make a final compliance check and to pick up any remaining cups, glasses and trash. Thank you for your cooperation."

Near the beginning of our flight, Garrett, much to my annoyance, decided to move into the middle seat, next to me, as soon as Peter stood up to go to the bathroom when the seatbelt light was turned off.

Once it was discovered that we were all heading for the same conference and hotel, I noted how Garrett surreptitiously placed his left hand into his jacket pocket - and just like magic,_ poof_, his wedding ring suddenly disappeared.

He needn't have bothered.

If Garrett Klein was the last available man on Earth, and I was the last unmarried woman… I'd convert, become a Carmelite Nun, and then marry Jesus.

Garrett's favorite topic is… Garrett.

I'm under the distinct impression that he fancies himself as a wealthy, ladies-man, but honestly, the money he boasts about probably comes from his wife.

I'm well aware of how much a Speech-Language Pathologist makes per annum - obviously.

So far, Garrett has attempted to impress me by telling me all about the car he drives (it's an Audi of some sort) how big his luxury home in Los Feliz is, and how many overseas trips he takes each year.

Now, if I were a competitive or petty person, I could have told Garrett all about my boyfriend and his _toys _- the boat, the car, and the helicopters.

I could have also mentioned that he, too, has traveled to exotic, distant lands, met strange, exciting people-

**({'})** -_and then killed them… _

**({'}) **_What? Well, it's true. He was in the Army, after all._

However…, I'm always disinclined to encourage conversations with egotistical idiots.

When Garrett tried to engage me with anecdotes about the kids of various celebrities he's worked with, I shut him down quickly by admonishing him for breeching client confidentiality. He then changed tack by bragging how Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick are his _closest_ neighbors.

**({'})**_ Whoop-dee-frickin-do._

In response, I simply yawned, slowly fluttered my eyelids to a close, and then pretended to fall asleep. I even added in a little sleep drool for effect; although, Peter nearly ruined it by snickering at me, because I had to rein in a smirk.

Thankfully, feigned sleep turned into real sleep, and I managed to avoid interacting with Garrett for about five hours.

I'm looking forward to getting to the hotel and taking a long shower, followed by a three hour nap before taking a look around the city.

_Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

"_Flight attendants, please take your seats for __landing__." _

-oo0oo-

As we taxi along the runway toward the terminal, the captain announces, "_Ladies and gentlemen, __welcome__ to Kingsford-Smith Airport. The l__ocal time__ is 9.50am, and the __temperature __forecast for today__ is 41 degrees Celsius, or for those of you who haven't yet caught onto the metric system, that's a toasty 105.8 degrees Fahrenheit. Currently, it's 37 degrees for the Australians, or for you Americans, it's 98.6."_

When I left Seattle, it was chilly and raining, and I usually find the air-conditioning in planes to be too cold for my personal comfort, but it sounds as though we will be walking into a furnace once we leave the aircraft. At the moment, I'm wearing my black, wool business pants and matching blazer.

I'm going to melt.

"Holy shit, that's hot!" I squeak.

"I'll say it is! It was a touch over forty-one in Denver when I left home," Peter says. He then appears to make some mental calculations. "That's what… somewhere around five degrees Celsius?"

"_On behalf of Qantas Airlines and the entire crew, we hope you enjoyed giving us your business as much as we've enjoyed taking you for a ride. You are reminded to remain seated until the aircraft is stationary at the aerobridge. At no time in history, has a passenger ever beaten a plane to the terminal, so please…, don't even try. Just sit back and relax."_

The passengers snicker.

"_There may be fifty ways to leave your lover, but there are only two ways out of this aircraft. Those of you in rows twelve to forty eight are asked to leave via the aerobridge exit at the front of the aircraft, all other rows, including those on the upper deck, are asked to leave via the rear exit. For your own safety, as you cross the tarmac, please stay within the clearly marked lines. Last one out gets to clean the plane."_

More chuckling. I love it when airline staff have fun with the announcements.

"_As you deplane, please check around your seat for any __personal belongings__ you may have brought onboard with you, and use caution when opening the __overhead bins__, because as we all know - shift happens. _

"_Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants, so if you are going to leave anything behind, please make sure it's something we'd like to keep, or can easily be sold on Ebay for a profit. Please do not leave behind children or spouses. Once again, on behalf of Qantas Airlines, we hope you have a pleasant day, and we look forward to flying with you next time."_

As soon as the plane stops at the terminal, I turn my iPhone on, check the time back home, and send Edward a text.

_**I think we may have landed in Hell. It's not even ten in the morning, and already the temperature is 98.6! Miss you. Where are you? - B xx**_

Sydney is nineteen hours ahead of Washington making it almost 3:00pm yesterday back at home. Edward's response is quick.

_**On the news, it mentioned Sydney's going through an eight-day heat wave, but it should be over by Wednesday. I'm at Em and Rosie's. I just drove them home from the hospital, and they've invited me to stay for dinner. Mum and Carlisle will be here soon. Love you - Ed xxx**_

I look up from my phone and see the aisles are packed as people retrieve their belongings from the overhead compartments. They file towards the exits like sheep. Already the stifling heat from outside has overtaken the air-conditioning, so I remove my jacket and stuff it into my carry-on. There's not much I can do about my business shirt for now, except undo one of the top buttons and roll up the sleeves.

Garrett seems to be in a hurry, and he rudely pushes past Peter to get into the aisle, whereas, Peter seems happy to hang back and politely wait for others to pass first. I send Edward another text.

_**Love you too. Say hi to your family from me. What's for dinner? Does baby-girl Cullen-McCarty have a name yet? Mwah - B xxx**_

By the time Edward's reply text comes through, we are walking through the doors of the terminal, making our way towards Garrett, who is waiting in the queue to get his passport stamped. I'm already sweating buckets.

_**Family says hi back to you. We're still debating what to have for dinner. Rosie wants Thai food, but Em says it'll give the baby (with no name) gas. I swear if Em doesn't pull his head in, Rosie's gonna smack it. Mwah, lick. - Ed xx**_

As we shuffle along in the queue, I Google spicy food and breastfeeding, and then send Edward the link to a Q and A article that has advice from women in countries such as Mexico and India.

After a few minutes, Edward responds and I laugh out loud.

_**Em said to say thanks. Rosie says you are dead to her. We're having Italian. ;o) Ed – xoxo**_

"Something funny?" Peter asks.

"Just my boyfriend and his family."

"Have you and your boyfriend been together long?"

"Six months. In fact, today is sort of an anniversary. It's been six months as of today."

"Ah… new love; I remember it well," Peter says wistfully.

"What about you? Significant other? We didn't get much of a chance to talk before Mr. Name-dropper wedged himself between us."

"I know, right? That guy seems like a narcissistic jerk. I've got a good mind to point him out to customs as a person of interest, so they can give him a cavity search. Maybe they can help extract his head from his ass." We both chuckle. "Anyway… to answer your question, I was married for a while, but it didn't work out. I've been divorced for a few years."

"Any kids?"

"Yeah, my son, he's five. His mother and I have a pretty good arrangement, so I see him often. Can I show you a picture?"

"Sure."

To pass the time as we stand around waiting to get our passports stamped, we show each other pictures on our phones. I show him pictures of my family, Edward and Edward's family while he shows me pictures of his son, his ex-wife, extended family and friends.

Every time we look up, Garrett is giving us exasperated looks.

**({'})** _Dickwad_.

-oo0oo-

"I'm melting!" I whine from the back seat, even though the taxi driver assures me the air-conditioning is going full-blast. I'm certain parts of my white shirt have become transparent with perspiration.

"Not far to go," Peter says encouragingly, looking over the front seat at the taxi's GPS display on the dashboard.

"Well if you hadn't insisted on going over the Harbour Bridge, just like a tourist, instead of going through the tunnel, we would have been there sooner," Garrett gripes.

I don't know what his problem is. He's sitting in the front seat where the air-conditioning can actually be felt.

The driver was most apologetic, explaining earlier that the taxi was not his, and that he was just filling in for another driver for a few hours as a favor.

"Actually, sir, due to the road conditions this morning at the end of the tunnel, going over the bridge was the quicker option," the driver replies, putting Garrett in his place.

**({'})** _I love this guy!_

It has taken us almost thirty five sweltering minutes, but I smile in delight, as soon as we pull up in front of the charming two-story bed and breakfast manor in Cremorne Point.

The driver helps me with my bags, even going so far as to carry them up the steps to the front door.

"That will be sixty-five dollars, folks," the driver announces as he sets my luggage down.

We earlier decided to split the fare three ways, but when Garrett hands me his share, I see he hasn't bothered to add a tip.

"What?" Garrett asks accusingly when I give him an incredulous look.

"Where's your share of the ten percent tip?" I ask, as if he is stupid.

"This is Australia. You don't need to tip here," he says condescendingly.

"Oh… is that true?" I look to the driver for confirmation, suddenly feeling like the stupid one.

"Receiving a tip isn't an expectation like it is in America, but it's appreciated, nonetheless, when a passenger feels the service was good enough to warrant offering one," the driver kindly explains.

"In that case… here you go," I say as I dig into my purse for more change and hand the driver a final total of seventy-five dollars.

The driver gives me a big, friendly smile. "Thanks. So, what's yer name, love?" he asks, holding out his hand to shake mine.

"Bella. Bella Swan."

He pushes a business card into my palm. "Well, Bella Swan, my name's Lee, and if you _ever_ need a ride while you're here in Sydney, just quote the name and number on the back, and if I'm available, I'll swing by and pick you up, quick smart. I'll even charge you the regular taxi fee. Just tell the operator your name when you make the booking."

I look at the card in my hand and smile.

_Chauffeured Solutions_.

BMW 7 series, Audi A8L, Mercedes Benz S Class,  
>Holden CapriceStatesman, VW luxury transport 7 seaters,  
>Mini Buses, Coach style buses.<p>

-oo0oo-

"I don't understand," I say to the nice lady at the reception desk, whose name is Monique, as she passes me a key across the desk. "Surely this must be a mistake."

"I'm sorry, dear, but that's the reservation the conference organizers made. I guess they thought you'd be happy to share a room. Most of the international guests are sharing."

"But I'm sharing with three other people," I say in disbelief.

"Yes, that's right. The two-roomed family suite can actually accommodate up to five people. Someone pulled out at the last minute, so I guess that means one of you won't have to fight over who gets to sleep on the top bunk."

Un-frickin-believable.

"And you're absolutely sure there are no other suites available."

Monique shakes her head. "None. We're fully booked. If you are unhappy with the room or your room mates, I can only suggest you seek accommodation elsewhere, but of course, the expense will come out of your own pocket - we've already been paid by the conference organizers."

Resignedly, I grab the key and fill in the paperwork.

"Chin up, Bella. It's not so bad," Peter mutters next to me as he fills in the details on his own paperwork. "It could be worse. You could have ended up like me – sharing a room with Garrett."

"True." I chuckle.

The poor bastard.

Once the paperwork is finished, I pick up my bags and head towards the room known as the family suite.

As I approach the room, I can hear hysterical laughter. Tentatively, I knock on the door before using my key. "Hello?"

Someone with a thick British accent calls out from the other room as I bend down to grab hold of my bags. "Heyyyyy! Sounds like our final roomie has arrived!"

"Thank fook for that! Now we can all decide who gets what bed and get some fookin' shut eye," another voice calls out. From the accent, I gather she's from Ireland.

Three women, two of them wearing pajamas, all walk out of what I assume to be the second bedroom, the room containing a single bed and the bunk.

The third woman, the one who is wearing a colorful halter-neck dress, is the first to address me. "Hey! How ya goin'. Welcome to our most humble abode. I'm Sasha Moyes, and you are?"

"Hi. I'm Bella Swan, and I'm from Olympia, Washington State. It's nice to meet you. Where are you from, Sasha?"

"I'm from Wellington, New Zealand," she replies. "Now… that mad cow over there…, that's Senna Harrison," Sasha points to the woman dressed in a pair of cow-print sleep shorts and matching tank top, "and she's from London." The three women start laughing. "And the giraffe standing there," she says, gesturing to a very tall woman with long, red hair, "that's Siobhan Morton, and she's from carrot fungus in Ireland."

"Jaysus, Kiwi, you're as thick as manure, but only half as useful. I've already told you twice; I'm from Carrickfergus, not carrot fungus!" Siobhan says rolling her eyes in exasperation. They all burst into laughter again, and I join them.

I think I'm going to like these ladies.

-oo0oo-

_**Monday afternoon – 3.00pm.**_

As Wellington is only two hours ahead of Sydney, Sasha had no issues with jet lag, so she kindly went out shopping for supplies while the rest of us had a three-hour nap. By the time she returned, we were starving and dying for a cup of coffee.

As we sit on the queen bed, watching TV and sipping our coffee, Sasha introduces us to the heavenly, chocolatey, goodness known as the _Arnott's Tim Tam_.

"Oh, my God," I moan. "These things are so yummy. I think I could eat a whole packet." I have melted chocolate on my fingers, and I lick them clean with relish.

"That's nothing… if you think that was good, we should do a Tim Tam slam," Sasha says, passing us the packet, so we can all take another one each.

"What's that?" Siobhan asks.

"It's an orgiastic feast for the senses," Sasha announces, "It's better than sex."

"In that case, you must be doing it wrong," I quip, and we all start giggling.

"Seriously, you gotta try it." When Sasha describes the process, we all look at her dubiously, but decide to play along.

I take a small bite from two corners at opposite ends of the rectangular treat. I then dunk a bitten corner into my coffee and suck on the other end like a straw. As soon as coffee and melted chocolate cream filling hits my tongue, I flip the cookie and shove the whole thing into my mouth.

Oh. My. God.

There are no words on Heaven or Earth that can adequately describe it.

I pick up my phone and send Edward a text.

_**Kiwi introduced me, Cow, and Giraffe, to Tim Tams and Tim Tam slams. Better than sex. I've decided I'm moving to Australia permanently to be with my new love. Sorry, you're dropped ;op – B xx **_

"Oh… he's nice," Senna says grabbing my phone and turning it around, so Siobhan and Sasha can look at Edward's photo. "Who's he?"

**({'})** _Mine!_

"That's my boyfriend, Edward."

Just then my iPhone chimes, and I make a grab for it, but Senna jumps off the bed before I can catch her.

She reads the message and then bursts into giggles. "Ooooh. I like him. He's a dirty boy," she teases.

"Is that Edward? What did he say?" Sasha asks.

Reading the message out aloud she says,"_While I'm sure Tim Tams are great, can they do to you that thing I do with my tongue so well - the thing that makes you shake uncontrollably and scream my name? If so, I will graciously bow down in defeat. If not, you better be ready for my arrival. I want to see you naked on the bed when I get there. Love you, Ed - kiss kiss kiss - P.S. Sounds as though you're having fun. Say hi to your new zoo friends from me_."

Siobhan starts theatrically fanning herself. "Phew! Did it suddenly just get hot in here?" We all start giggling again, and when Senna hands my phone back to me, I grin like the cat that ate the canary.

Suddenly, an amusing thought hits me, and I burst out into gales of laughter.

The girls all look at me expectantly for an explanation.

"Edward says he wants me waiting naked on the bed. So, do you think I should wait for him on the top bunk or the bottom bunk?"

By the time we manage to calm down, Sasha picks herself up from the floor, having fallen off the side of the bed, and we sigh in exhaustion, wiping tears of laughter from our cheeks.

"Hey, Kiwi. Pass me another Tim Tam," Siobhan says.

This is going to be a fun week.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Check out this airline. They sound like a hoot to travel with. **(http)(:/)(/bit.)**ly/kalula-airlines (remove brackets). Turn on the captions. LOL.  
><strong>

**If you've never had a Tim Tam or a Tim Tam slam … your life is sadly incomplete. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/TimTamSlam  
><strong>


	134. Chapter 134

_**Thursday, December 20**__**th**__** - ANZ lecture theatre - 4.20pm.**_

"…it is, therefore, essential to consider the role of the volunteer Speech Pathologist to be vital to the overall success of the Operation Smile team. On this particular mission, two pharyngoplasty surgeries, and two lip revision surgeries were performed. During the pre-op and post-op phases, the children came to the hospital every day for speech therapy sessions, often bringing their little friends along to listen to the lectures, in the hope they would help them to practice their speech lessons once the medical team left the region.

"As a volunteer, I've worked extensively with children such as these during my missions with the Operation Smile medical team, and while the work is often challenging, it has been incredibly rewarding. These types of missions would not be complete without volunteer Speech Pathologist input.

"So, to sum up… every child deserves the ability to smile, to speak, and to thrive. The free, life-changing surgeries performed by Operation Smile can take as little as forty-five minutes to perform, and they can potentially give a child, living with a craniofacial defect in an undeveloped country, a lifetime of smiles. Plus, for every child we heal, it produces a ripple-on effect on their family, their community, and their country. Through the face of a child, we create new alliances and health initiatives to make the world a better place, and we hope one day you'll assist us with your physical or financial assistance. Thank you."

After answering about ten minutes worth of questions, Sasha leaves the podium to warm applause and cheers for her moving speech about the volunteer work she's undertaken with Operation Smile. The conference compere stands, and he announces the third day's formalities are over. Everyone is then invited to join in on the evening's conference activity - a night climb of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

Siobhan, Senna, Peter, and I, all shuffle our way along the row of seats towards the aisle, and we descend the stairs to meet Sasha, who is waiting for us by the exit. Garrett comes along too, although none of us invited him.

When I reach Sasha, I give her a hug. "God, Kiwi! That was inspirational. You had me misty-eyed during your talk."

Sasha laughs and hugs me in return. "Thanks, Swanny. I was so nervous."

"Well, you couldn't tell." We release each other, and the rest of the group move forward to congratulate Sasha on her outstanding presentation.

"Yeah, way to go, Kiwi. Now we all feel guilty for being a bunch of homebodies who'll only work for money," Senna jokes.

"Aww, don't feel like that. If I had significant others at home, like you guys do, I don't think I'd be as footloose and fancy free," Sasha says.

"So, does anyone here feel like going on the bridge climb tonight?" Peter asks.

We exit the lecture theatre and enter the foyer. Senna, Siobhan, Sasha, and I, all glance at each other and screw up our noses at the thought of a two and a half hour bridge climb. "Nah," we all say in unison.

Looking towards the windows, I assess the weather situation outside. It looks as if the cool change has finally arrived, albeit a day later than first predicted.

Thankfully, the afternoon sky appears overcast. Poor Peter got quite sunburned yesterday afternoon.

"Sorry, Petal," Sasha says, using the nickname we'd drunkenly dubbed Peter with on Tuesday night, "I think today has taken its toll on us. The last thing I want to do is climb a bajillion stairs; even if the view from the top is breathtaking. I just want a light meal, a few drinks, and some relaxed conversation. I'm exhausted."

Having presented our papers today, I know the girls and l feel a bit wrung out. Peter and Garrett will be speaking tomorrow.

On Tuesday, after the first day of the conference, we went on a late-afternoon tour of the Sydney Opera House and then boarded one of the Magistic luxury catamarans for a three-hour buffet dinner cruise around Sydney Harbour. The food was superb, and the four of us girls got thoroughly sloshed on South Australian wines, while the guys got stuck into drinking Aussie beer.

We all thought it was hilarious when Garrett asked one of the servers for a VB, to which some of the Australians dining with us, mentioned some _home truths _about Victoria Bitter. I believe I heard them refer to it by names such as Visitors Beer, Very Bad, Vomit Bucket, Victorians Breakfast, and Vile Brew…

**({'}) **_…and Vaginal Backwash_. _Can't forget that one._ *_huff_*

Needless to say, Libby was unimpressed with the comparison.

Yesterday afternoon we all went on an encounter tour of Taronga Zoo. During the animal interactions, I got to hand-feed a giraffe, endured a large snake being draped around my neck, had an owl perch on my arm, and held a koala.

After holding the koala, I emailed the photos Sasha had taken of me with the girls and the various animals to Edward. Shortly after sending the pictures, he had replied with a text.

**Just be careful with those koala whores. According to Animal Planet, between 50 and 90% of them have Chlamydia. Ed xx**

_**Ewww. Now you tell me! - B xx**_

**Well, I'm not exactly a mind reader or psychic! :P Ed xx**

_**OMG! Guess what? One of the koalas just peed on the crotch of Garrett's pants. Do you think he should be worried about getting Chlamydia? – B xx**_

**Garrett? Is he the douchebag you mentioned that's tried to crack on to half of the women at the conference? Ed xx**

_**Yep. – B xxx**_

**In that case, from what you've told me, Garrett getting a venereal disease was inevitable. ; ) Ed xx**

_**LOL! True – B xxx**_

"I definitely feel like a drink," Senna announces. "Where shall we go?"

"I want to get on the piss at that cocktail bar we stopped in last night; the long, skinny place," Siobhan says.

"Honey Rider?" Peter asks.

"Yeah, that's the one. Great craic at that place. They have scran there too. What d'ya say?"

"Craic? Scran?" Garrett asks. "Speak English!"

"Good atmosphere and food," Siobhan explains with an eye roll.

We all nod enthusiastically.

After the zoo, we had gone on a progressive tour of some of the local eateries and bars. One of the stops was a tiny hole-in-the-wall cocktail bar called _Honey Rider_. We didn't get to stay there for long, as the bar was quite crowded by the time we arrived, and seating was limited. So, after consuming the round of s_creaming orgasms _Garrett insisted on buying for us girls (yes, we all rolled our eyes) the conference delegates left to board the chartered mini buses to head to the next destination.

"Do you wanna ring and see if Lee is available to take us to the bar?" Peter asks me.

I nod, pull out my iPhone and begin to make the call.

Opening the main screen, I see an iMessage from Edward. The message was sent a few hours ago. I'd missed it as my phone was set on silent during the conference presentations.

**What's your plan for tonight? Anything special lined up? I miss you. Ed xx**

**({'}) **_Oh, I miss you too, El __Capitán!_

I decide to respond quickly before calling the chauffeur company.

_**We're ditching the bridge climb in favor of some cocktails, food, and relaxing. Miss you, so much – B xxx**_

Just as I'm about to hit the contacts list, to find Lee's number, another message comes through, and Edward and I start messaging each other.

**Heading anywhere in particular? Can't wait to see you again. I miss holding you. Ed xx**

**({'}) **_Awww_**. **_I miss squeezing __El __Capitán, too. *clench*_

_**Going to a bar called Honey Rider. We're in the mood for cocktails. I can't wait to see you too. I miss sleeping next to you :( - B xx**_

**({'}) **_I especially miss your morning wood_**. **_*twitch flutter*_

Not now, Libby!

**({'})** *_sigh_*

**Okay. Have fun. Won't be long until we see each other again. Love you. Ed xxx**

_**Tomorrow can't come fast enough. Love you too. - B xxxx**_

"Are you gonna ring the fooking man or are you just gonna sext Edward until it's closing time?" Siobhan asks in mock annoyance.

"Who's Edward?" Garrett asks.

As Peter explains, I start to call Chauffeured Solutions. "He's Bella's boyfriend back in Washington."

"Oh yeah… right," he replies. "So he's got a name now..."

**({'}) **_That's right; we're already spoken for._

I look over at the girls in incredulity. I swear Garrett thinks I'm lying when I say I'm not interested because I already have a boyfriend. He's been told twice before, but nothing seems to deter him.

**({'}) **_Dickwad_.

-oo0oo-

After a fifteen-minute wait, Lee arrives at Taronga Center driving a shiny, black Mercedes-Benz van. He hops out of the driver side and opens the side door, allowing the rest of the group to pile into the back. I opt to sit up front with Lee rather than put up with Garrett.

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan," Lee says taking my hand and helping me up into the seat. He's smartly dressed in his black suit and chauffeur hat. "Did your talk go well today?"

"It's Bella, not Miss Swan, remember, and it went exceptionally well. How has your day been?" I enquire.

"Not too shoddy. Thank you for asking." He gently closes the door once I'm buckled in. When Lee is situated in the driver's seat, he turns to me and asks, "So, where are we all off to this afternoon?"

"Honey Rider," I reply. "Any idea how long it will take to get there?"

Lee puts the coordinates into the GPS and answers, "About fifteen to twenty minutes." As Lee pulls out into traffic, we chat amiably about our respective days, and then I ask him some questions about Katoomba, a small village located in the Blue Mountains.

Apparently, my mother and Phil moved to Katoomba from Woollahra back in October, opting to leave the hectic inner-city life behind in favor of a _tree-change, _as Mom had termed their move to the mountains.

On Saturday morning, Edward and I will make the ninety-minute journey to Katoomba to stay with my mother and Phil for four days, up until Christmas afternoon, when we'll return to Sydney, so Edward can get ready to sail the next day.

We'll be staying in bed and breakfast accommodation, but I have no clue where, as Edward has made all the arrangements through Carlisle's friend, Alec. He says he wants to surprise me.

Life is never dull or predictable with Edward in my life, and apart from missing him like crazy right now, I couldn't be happier.

-oo0oo-

**5.20pm.**

Walking into the Honey Rider bar, we're immediately approached by Olga, one of the owners.

The serving bar itself is kitschy, with its vinyl and glass panels that were apparently inspired by the hotel bar James Bond visited in '_Dr No'._ The film starred Ursula Andress as one of the most iconic Bond girls - Honey Rider.

Last night, during a brief conversation with Olga, we had asked why they had chosen the name Honey Rider.

"I wanted a two-worded name, and the North Sydney Council said 'Pussy Galore' would have sent the wrong message," she'd replied with a wink and a grin.

I look around and take in my surroundings once again. The venue has a slick, retro lounge-room, hominess about it. There are pressed-tin panels on the ceiling, upside-down pot plants hanging from the roof, 100-year-old floorboards, antique lights, and historic, raw brickwork walls that haven't seen the light of day for decades.

The end wall is painted royal blue and is decorated with empty gilded picture frames and mirrors. The other walls are eclectically decorated with stag horns, retro kitchen clocks, and sheet music lined drawers, mounted and filled with various curios such as outdated telephones and cameras.

After perusing the menus that are tucked between the pages of some old theatre and ballet programs, we place our drink and pizza orders with Olga, and then make our way along a corridor to the rear lounging area to sit on the 60s style sofas.

After a few minutes, Olga delivers our drinks. To begin with, Peter and Garrett have opted to drink an Aussie craft beer called Mountain Goat Steam Ale, whereas the girls and I have ordered _porn star martinis_, based on Olga's recommendation. As the minutes progress, the venue starts to become crowded.

When our pizzas arrive, we divide them up between us, so we can all try each of the pepperoni, vegetarian and Margherita styles.

I have a mouthful of pepperoni pizza, when Olga arrives with a tray laden with drinks. She begins to place glasses in front of us, and we all look at her curiously.

"Um… we didn't order these drinks," Siobhan says, as Olga places a layered shot glass in front of her.

"I know. These come from an admirer," Olga explains, as she continues to set down the six shot glasses on the round, metal and glass side tables. I note the drinks are all different.

"An admirer?" Senna asks.

"Maybe it's from someone attending the conference. They may have heard your presentations today," Peter says.

We all look around to see if there's anyone familiar to us. It's difficult to make out the faces of the people standing at the bar due to the crowd of milling patrons. They are in silhouette due to the dim, overhead lighting and the natural light filtering in from the large windows at the entrance.

"Well, let's not be ungrateful," Sasha says, lifting the shot glass to her nose to sniff the alcohol contained within. "Mmmm, smells yummy." Holding her glass in front of her, she makes a toast, "To new friends and a life time of smiles."

"To new friends and a life time of smiles," we all reply and raise our glasses in the air before downing them quickly.

"Whoa! That was great," Senna says, licking her lips, "what was it?"

Starting with Senna, Olga rattles off the names while collecting the glasses. "You just had a _mad cow._" Picking up Siobhan's glass, she says, "And yours was a _drunken Irish monk._" Indicating to Garrett's glass and then Sasha's, she says, "That was a _flying masturbator, _and yours was a _green-eyed blond. _You got the_ red lobster, _and yours was called_ foreplay," _she says pointing to Peter, and finally, me.

We all laugh at the names of the drinks… except for Garrett.

As soon as Olga walks back towards the bar, Senna says, "Okay, smart-arse, which one of you actually ordered these drinks?" We all look at her in innocence. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me that a complete stranger just happened to know Siobhan's Irish, or that you guys dubbed me with the name 'mad cow' on the first day we met. Petal? Garrett?" Senna says his name in an accusing manner. "You've been up to the bar area…"

"I swear; I didn't order them," Garrett says defensively. "I went outside for a cigarette."

We all resume eating our pizzas, and I quietly muse about the beverage choices that were handed to us.

Sasha is, in fact, blond with green-eyes, and Peter has some impressive sunburn on his face. I secretly think that maybe Peter was the one to order the drinks, and I chuckle that he gave Garrett a _flying masturbator. _

**({'}) **_Bwahahaha._

But to give me _foreplay_?

Really?

**({'}) **_Yeah, dude… what's that all about?_

A few minutes later, another server arrives with yet another tray of drinks. This time they are a variety of different drink styles. We look at each other dubiously, knowing that this time, none of us stood up from our seats to go to the bar.

"Who _are_ these from?" Senna asks.

"A couple of admirers at the bar," the new server replies. Her name tag says, "Kristie."

"Can you point them out to us?" Sasha asks.

"Uh… um… there's a guy sitting at the bar with really short hair, who's a total hottie, and then there is another guy with gray hair who is much older." Kristie puts the drinks down in front of us. Mine is served in a highball glass. Bringing the rim of the glass towards my nose, I can detect the scent of Kahlua and Amaretto.

"So what are we drinking this time? Siobhan asks.

Going around the room, starting with Siobhan and Sasha, Kristie says, "_Red devil. Warm woolly sheep_." Then pointing to Peter, Garrett, me and Senna, she continues, "_Colorado bulldog, wet crotch, dry hump and London buck." _

Garrett looks at his glass with disgust and pushes it away. "I'm not drinking something called a '_wet crotch_'."

"Oh, I assure you; it tastes quite nice. It's just black raspberry liqueur, Irish cream, and triple sec." Kristie turns on her heel and walks back towards the bar area.

"I'm sensing a theme here," Senna says.

"Someone has a funny sense of humor," Sasha announces looking at her drink, laughing and then shaking her head.

"I don't get it," I complain.

"Did you know that Aussies often refer to New Zealanders as '_sheep shaggers_'?"

"Oh."

Senna, Siobhan, and I burst into laughter.

"Well, the rest of the drinks are fairly self-explanatory; although, someone seems to have it in for Garrett, but has the hots for Bella," Siobhan says.

I vaguely look towards the bar area, but the corridor limits our view, and there are too many people standing there to discern who might be sending us drinks.

"Bottoms up," Senna says, and we all sip from our glasses.

Twenty minutes later, the drinks we have consumed have made us warm and relaxed. Suddenly, another server appears with yet another tray of drinks.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Don't shoot the messenger," says the server, who looks to be barely eighteen. His tag tells us his name is Kevin.

"So what do we have this time?" Peter asks.

Referring to a list on his tray, Kevin places a cocktail glass in front of Peter. The drink is pink with a round slice of lemon rind floating on top. "It's called a _tree line, _supposedly. It's the first time the barman has made it," Kevin explains.

A strange look passes over Peter's face, as if he is trying to remember something.

As Kevin distributes the drinks, he tells us their names. "_Randy little kiwi_ for you," he says to Sasha, placing a green colored drink in front of her.

A _British comfort_ is placed in front of Senna. Siobhan receives a _shamrock, _and Garrett gets _dogg piss, _which he adamantly refuses and asks that it be sent back with orders to decline any further drinks from our mystery cocktail benefactors.

"Well, what am I drinking this time?" I'm looking at a shot glass that is topped with whipped cream.

Kevin suddenly blushes and starts stammering. "Um… it's er… um… it's… got peach schnapps, Irish cream and pineapple juice in it."

"Well what's it called?" I ask.

"I'd rather not say it out loud." Impossibly, he seems to blush even redder.

**({'}) **_Okay… weird._

Poor, young Kevin looks as though he wants to die.

"Can you perhaps whisper it to me… or just show me your notepad?" I ask quietly.

Kevin nods and holds the notepad in front of me to see what is written.

_Sunburned guy – Tree line _  
><em>Blond girl - Randy little kiwi<em>  
><em>Brunette girl with short hair – British comfort<em>  
><em>Tall, red head - Shamrock <em>  
><em>Oompa loompa guy with obvious fake tan – Dogg piss<em>  
><em>Hot, long-haired brunette - Cunnilingus<em>.

I feel my eyes widen in surprise, and my neck flushes at the sheer audacity of these guys.

Kevin snatches his notepad from my grasp and then runs away as if his ass is on fire.

I roll my eyes.

Okay… I get it.

First, I got _foreplay_, then a _dry hump_ and now this…

_Cunnilingus._

I decide that the mystery cocktail flirters have to be stopped.

Not one to waste free alcohol, I take the shot and then grab some money out of my purse. Perusing the cocktail menu, I can't seem to find anything that truly conveys what I want to say to my misguided admirers, so as usual, I turn to the other love of my life - my iPhone - and I Google it.

I smile in victory when I find the perfect cocktail.

_A.M.F_

Vodka, rum, tequila, gin, blue Curacao liqueur, sweet and sour mix, and 7-Up.

**({'})** Otherwise known as _adios motherfucker._

Awesome.

I signal Olga, who is on her way back to the bar with an empty tray. I give her some money and instructions to have the barman make two _adios motherfucker_s. She laughs when I explain why.

Ten minutes later, she returns carrying a single drink in a highball glass. I give her the scary bitch-brow.

It seems my message was ignored.

I wonder what suggestively named drink I'll get this time.

_Sit on my face_?

A _blowjob_?

A _quick fuck_?

_Butt Sex?_

"Oh don't give me that look," Olga pleads while setting the glass down in front of me. "He was very persuasive and charming."

"Okay… let me have it. What is it this time?" I huff in exasperation.

"This one is called '_sex with the captain'._"

"Well, isn't that just typical. I mean-." Suddenly, I have a light bulb moment.

**({'}) **_Hang on… you don't suppose…_

Of course, it's all starting to make some sense.

"Can you please give me a detailed description of the person who sent this drink?"

Olga turns and looks in the direction of the bar area. "Better yet, why don't you just come with me?" she says, turning around to face me again.

I stand and let the rest of the group know I'm heading for the bar.

Following Olga, we navigate our way to the very end of the venue, right near the door. She points two men out to me who are sitting at the end of the bar, out of the direct line of sight from the rear lounge area.

"The young guy in the navy t-shirt, black jeans, and sexy stubble…," Olga says, "…well, he's the ringleader of the two. The older guy he's talking to is acting as his stooge."

**({'})** _Eddie_!

Sitting there, perched upon a bar stool with a beer bottle in his grasp, is Edward.

He's deep in conversation with an older gentleman. I realize now it's Alec, the owner and skipper of the 98-foot super maxi yacht, _Breaking Dawn_. I recall seeing him pass by our seats earlier in the evening on his way to the men's restroom, but at the time, I couldn't place his face. I've only seen a picture of him once before at Esme and Carlisle's house.

**({'}) **_Edward cut his hair again. *pout*_

Seeing how Edward's normally unruly hair has been shorn off into a crew cut once again makes me sigh. He warned me that he was going to cut his hair short for the race, but I personally prefer it when his hair is longer. It shocked me the first time Esme shaved most of his hair off. That was back in August, right before he had to fulfill his Army Reserve obligations.

I thank Olga, and she heads back behind the bar. For now, it seems as though Edward hasn't seen my approach, so I decide to sneak up behind him.

Snaking my arms around his body, I give him a quick crotch-grab and a soft bite on the side of his neck that makes him jump in his seat. He almost chokes on a mouthful of beer and the bottle he's holding drops onto the bar. Reflexively he reaches out to stop the bottle from tipping over.

"Come here often, sailor?" I ask seductively into his ear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Laws are changing and koalas can no longer be cuddled/ held by the general public in New South Wales or Victoria, but you still can in several places within South Australia and Queensland, and there's one place that I know of in Western Australia. You may recall that Harry Styles and Liam Payne from _One Direction_ got their crotches peed on while cuddling a koala when they visited Australia, and there were a lot jokes going around at the time that they'd contracted Chlamydia.**


	135. Chapter 135

"Jesus Christ!" his words are choked out between coughing fits. Using his palm, Edward wipes at a few drops of beer that have spilled from his mouth onto his chin.

I prop my own chin on his shoulder. "Buzzzzzzzzt! It's Bella, actually, but thanks for playing this round of, "_Guess who just groped you?_" Then I give his pecs a playful grab, too, causing him to squirm.

Without warning, Edward spins around on the bar stool to face me. "Why you little…," he starts to say, before reaching out to grab me around the waist.

In an instant, I'm crushed against his body. His ankles are locked around my calves; my hips are clasped between his knees; my upper body is encircled by his arms, and my senses are overwhelmed by everything that's unmistakably and uniquely Edward.

Holding me tightly, he digs his fingers into my sides where I'm the most ticklish, causing me to laugh riotously.

Edward stops and then gives me a quick, chaste kiss. "I suppose you thought that was funny," he says against my lips.

I giggle. "You squealed like a girl."

"Did not! Say you're sorry."

"Never!"

He continues to tickle-torture me while chuckling against the side of my neck. I laugh and writhe against his onslaught until I can't take it anymore, which is about ten seconds. "Okay, I'm sorry. I give up!" I gasp, and we collapse against each other's bodies and embrace.

"Awww. Did I frighten you, baby?" I giggle against his chest.

Pulling back to look at me, he grins. "Yeah, you scared the shit out of me, Bell. In fact, I nearly lost my bottle." We both exhale in exhausted relief and Edward leans down to kiss me properly. "Hey, beautiful, It's so good to see you," he sighs, when we break the kiss.

We're resting forehead to forehead, and I'm cupping the back of his head in my hands. I run my palms over his hair (or lack, thereof) and kiss him again.

Just being able to touch him calms my mind, warms my body and soothes my soul, and while I could stay with him like this forever, curiosity wins out. I'm glad he's here in Sydney earlier than expected, but I'm curious to know the reason why, so I pull back to interrogate him.

"Now tell me… are you here early because you couldn't bear to go another day alone, or is it that you're insanely jealous and untrusting so you've decided to stalk me?" I joke.

With a look of mock-sincerity he says, "It was because I couldn't bear to be without you, of course. You know I trust you with my whole heart." He grins boyishly, and I chuckle at him.

"You're full of shit, Edward, but good answer."

"Thanks." He laughs at first, but then a scowl of annoyance passes over his features. "I can't say I trust your koala humping friend, though. When Alec went to the loo, he said Garrett was trying to get close enough to warrant sitting in your bloody pocket."

It was true.

One of the reasons I'd earlier decided to venture to the restroom was to get away from Garrett. He was literally breathing down my neck. On returning to my seat, I had to tell him to scoot across and give me more room to sit, but he's been slowly moving closer and closer. Quite frankly, the guy makes my skin crawl, and I wish I could send some other message to say I'm not interested in him, because the direct approach hasn't worked.

"Ah, yes, Alec; your sneaky reconnaissance man. You know; I thought I recognized him from somewhere, but I figured he must have been a conference delegate." I snicker in amusement. "By the way, the drinks you sent to Garrett were totally hilarious. I can't believe you sent a _Flying masturbator, _a_ wet crotch, and dogg piss._ You weren't marking your territory with that last cocktail by any chance, Mr. Cullen?"

"Who me?" he says with feigned shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, really? Because poor, innocent Kevin almost needed CPR after giving me _cunnilingus_." As if on cue, Kevin pops up from behind the bar. He sees that I'm looking at him, and he blushes tomato red.

Edward huskily whispers next to my ear, "I'm the only one who gets to give you cunnilingus, Bella. Kevin merely gave you a drink."

"Ah-ha! So, you admit it then!"

Edward raises his eyes to the ceiling, as if there's something amusing up there to look at, and he begins to whistle innocently. Grasping his chin between my thumb and forefinger, I force his gaze back to me, and he grins cheekily.

"Well, it bloody well took you long enough to work out I was the one sending the drinks. I more or less hinted in my texts that I'd be seeing you soon. I must have spent a small fortune wooing you with x-rated cocktails. You're usually quicker to catch on, Miss Swan."

"Wooing me? Oh, is that what you were doing?" I laugh and lower my voice so only Edward can hear. "In that case, maybe you should have bought me some roses or sex toys instead; then I would've known straight away it was you." I give him a pointed look.

He smiles, knowing what I'm referring to. "Ahh." Also speaking in a lowered voice, he asks, "Does this mean you road-tested your gifts then?" He gives me a cocked eyebrow.

"Yeah. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it."

"And?" He's looking at me expectantly.

I smirk and raise an eyebrow back at him.

I'd found a small, unfamiliar makeup tote within my toiletries bag late Monday night while getting ready for a relaxing soak in the deep, claw foot tub. Stuck to the side of the tote was a post-it note with the words, "BLOG THIS!"

At first glance, the tote appeared to be full of high-end makeup. However, on opening the products, I discovered they were, in fact, waterproof sexessories; sex toys and crèmes cleverly designed to look like everyday makeup items – discreet and perfect for the travelling woman.

There was a tingle-tip clit vibrator disguised as a mascara wand, a silicone blusher-brush vibe, a flexible tip clit vibe masquerading as lipstick, and a powerful, multifunction bullet vibe with spare batteries concealed beneath the mirror of a compact case. There were also warming cinnamon and cooling peppermint O-balms disguised as eye shadow pots, and a tube of climax créme camouflaged as lip gloss.

**({'})** _Thank you, Edward!_

"My full report will be ready for the blog on Sunday... Well, our Monday, actually," I say teasingly, and he pouts. "However, to provide a well-rounded opinion, I think I'll need a study buddy to help me test some of the crèmes. Know anyone who can help me?"

"Mmmm. I think I can handle that," he whispers seductively. His warm breath fans against the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver in desire.

Beside me, I hear the sound of a throat clearing, breaking us out of our private bubble. We turn to give the intruder our attention.

"Hi! I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced yet, because Eddie's an inconsiderate bastard. I'm Alec Kavanagh," he says thrusting his hand out in greeting, "and I'm the one responsible for dragging this boy's sorry arse to Australia a day early; although he didn't seem to protest too much. Now I know why!"

"Hi, Alec, I'm Bella." I reach out to shake Alec's hand, but he turns my hand and kisses the back of it instead.

"Hey, watch it, you horny, old sea dog," Edward warns, playfully grabbing my hand from Alec's lingering lips. "I'll tell your missus what an incorrigible skirt chaser you are."

"Pffft. My wife already knows I'm a flirt, and yet she still loves me. I know which side my bread is buttered on, and so does Athena," he says with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Actually, you don't have to worry about me, Bella; I'm all talk and no action. That's because my dear wife keeps my balls in her handbag."

I laugh. "So, Alec, why did you drag Edward's sorry ass here a day early? Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"We needed to get the entire crew together for a bit more practice before race day," he explains. "Plus, I wanted Edward here in time for the crew's 6:00am breakfast meeting tomorrow morning, so we can discuss strategy."

Suddenly, my iPhone starts vibrating. I retrieve it from the back pocket of my capri pants and answer the call. It's Sasha. "Hello?" I say loudly to be heard over the din of the bar.

"_Swanny? Where are you? Did you get kidnapped?"_

"No. It turns out Edward is here. He's the one who's been sending the drinks."

Sasha yells, "_Tell that pommy git he's in trouble for inferring I'm a sheep fucker!_"

I laugh out loud. "I'll leave that up to you; we'll come over."

"_Okay then, see you soon_."

"That was Sasha." I explain. "How about we go down to the back lounge area, and you can meet everyone."

Edward and Alec both stand and Edward drapes his arm over my shoulder as the three of us make our way through the crowd towards the group.

When we arrive, everyone is there except Garrett. As the three of us get seated, I make the formal introductions, and we all have a laugh about the cocktails that Edward and Alec sent us.

Momentarily, I look away from the group, and I see Garrett exiting the men's restroom, heading in the direction of the bar. Suddenly, I have a flash of inspiration to mess with his mind.

"Role play?" I whisper to Edward, and he just nods and grins. "Hey, you guys," I say to the rest of the group, "when Garrett comes back, can you pretend you don't know who Edward is. You know, pretend like we just met?" Except for Edward, everyone looks at me with puzzled expressions, but they nod agreeably. "Alec? Can Edward borrow your wedding ring for a while?"

Alec assents and passes his wedding band to Edward, who quickly slips the ring onto his finger. Edward looks at me and smiles knowingly. I love how quickly we fall in sync when we are together.

I briefly explain my plan to teach Garrett a lesson to the group.

During one of our text sessions earlier in the week, I had mentioned how Garrett tried to pass himself off as an unmarried man. Throughout the conference, his wedding ring hasn't reappeared. Although we haven't called him out on it, little does Garrett know, Peter and the girls have managed to inform each and every one of the women he's tried to flirt with about his true marital status. In most cases, gesturing to the pale tan line on his left ring finger is usually enough to enlighten any potential conquests.

As Garrett moves towards us with a beer in his hand, I can see he's scowling. With the arrival of both Edward and Alec, there are no longer any empty seats available in our little group.

Standing in front of Edward, Garrett rudely asks, "Who are you?"

"The name's Tony," Edward replies lifting his left hand to give a single wave in greeting. Due to the angle at which Edward has presented his hand, the gold wedding band is clearly visible. "And who are you?" he asks, speaking in a friendly tone.

"Garrett, and you're in my seat, buddy," he replies tersely, not bothering to hide his misplaced territorial jealousy.

Edward responds apologetically. "Oh… I'm sorry. I wasn't aware this seat was already taken. Edward stands, and Garrett once again sits down between Peter and me; a little too close for my own liking. I attempt to move away from him, to put some extra space between us, but I have the arm of the sofa on my right side.

I glare at Edward.

**({'})** _Why the fuck did he stand up?_

Seeming to contemplate the seating issue, Edward looks at the women in the group. "Okay, which one of you gorgeous ladies wants to sit on my knee?" He then slays them all with the patented panty-dropper smile.

"Me!" we all say in unison, Sasha even going so far as to thrust her hand high in the air. I give them all the scary bitch-brow and they giggle.

Cheeky minxes.

**({'}) **_Whoa, whoa, whoa! The line to sit side-saddle on El __Capitán__ starts and ends with me, so calm the fuck down, bitches!_

"Hey, beautiful, what's your name?" Edward asks suavely. He takes my hand in his and helps me to stand.

Drawing on my inner, awkward teenager with a massive crush, I meekly reply, "It's… um… B- Bella."

Edward sits down in my seat and pats his lap encouragingly, urging me to sit. Once I'm seated across his lap, I lean over and pick up my forgotten _sex with the captain _cocktail from the side table. Taking a sip, I can detect rum, a hint of amaretto and something else within the fruit juice blend. I then begin a conversation with Alec, who is seated across from us.

Garrett is gritting his jaw.

"So, Alec… it's such a coincidence seeing you here, you didn't mention on the phone that you were out and about tonight."

"Well, you did talk up this establishment during your phone call last night. Today, I happened to mention it to my old friend, Tony, so we thought we'd check it out based on your recommendation. Now, do tell me, Bella, did your presentation go as well as you expected?"

Edward must have mentioned I was speaking at the conference today. Thank goodness Alec is quick on his toes. He's a great improviser.

I've had fun role-playing with Edward in the past, so I know he can pull off this charade.

At Halloween, Esme hosted another fundraiser event at The Brotherhood Lounge to purchase more exercise equipment for The Good Samaritan Regional Rehabilitation Center. The costume theme was to dress up as _something_ _medical_. Just for a laugh, we pretended to meet for the first time at the party.

Edward had dressed up as a male nurse, and I dressed up as a patient. Throughout the evening, we flirted with each other on the dance floor, working ourselves into a frenzy. As a result, we spontaneously booked into the nearest hotel room. Nurse Edward put me through a thorough physical examination, took my temperature, repeatedly, with his 'special' thermometer, and gave me an unforgettable sponge bath.

"It went perfectly, Alec. In fact, all of our talks were well received this afternoon, right girls?" They all nod. "So, what have you been up to lately?"

Alec launches into a conversation with the group about how he and his best buddy, Tony, are in town for the Sydney-Hobart yacht race. Alec mentions the yacht is crewed by a selection of close friends and colleagues from Breaking Dawn Avionics, the company Alec owns in Western Australia.

While Alec talks, Edward slides his left hand into his pocket, perfectly mimicking the same maneuver Garrett did the day I met him.

**({'}) **_Did ya catch that little trick, Garrett? Hey presto… no wedding ring!_

"And what do you do for work and fun, Tony?" I ask, wriggling and turning slightly on his lap to address him better.

Edward has his right arm resting on the arm of the sofa, behind my back, and his left hand is resting on my leg. Throughout the conversation, he's slowly been inching up his hand from my knee. Each time he reaches around my body, to put his bottle of beer on the table, his hand comes back to rest a little higher up on my leg, a fact that doesn't seem to have gone entirely unnoticed by Garrett.

"I'm a helicopter pilot. I co-own a charter company with my brother-in-law and step-father. However, for fun, I play golf." He grins at me wickedly and winks before continuing. "Yeah, I _really_ like golf. Seriously, I can _never_ get enough golf. I could play golf all day; I never tire of it."

Since Thanksgiving, '_golf_' has become our secret little euphemism for having sex.

Fancy a round of _golf? _

Anyone up for a game of_ golf?_

**({'}) **_Oh yes and please!_

Thinking about sex with Edward makes Libby horny, causing me to squirm on his lap again.

Edward barely stifles a growl, and I snicker.

Garrett's eyes light up, and he attempts to insert himself into the conversation. "You play golf? Really? My friends and I play at the Hillcrest Country Club back in L.A. It's quite an exclusive club…"

**({'})** _Ugh. He's going to start bragging about himself again._

"So, Tony, what's your handicap then?" Garrett asks, oblivious to the fact that Edward is already bored to death of him.

"Brown-eyed, brunettes…" Edward says, giving me a smoldering gaze and licking his lower lip. He's not even bothering to glance at Garrett, knowing full well we have his undivided attention. "…I tend to find them very… distracting."

**({'}) **_Sweet Jeebus! __Get a load of Edward. __If they ever make eye-fucking an Olympic sport, he'll be a shoo-in for a gold medal._

Garrett narrows his eyes while the rest of the group try to control their expressions. Edward reaches around me once again to grab his beer bottle, but discovers it's empty.

"Can I buy you a drink, Tony?" I ask enthusiastically.

"Sure."

"What would you like?"

"Hmmm. Why don't you choose something for me, and I'll choose something for you?"

"Okay." I pick up the extensive cocktail menu from the table, and we look at it together. After a minute of reading, I point to a cocktail and snicker.

"_Blue balls?_" He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I nod. He shakes his head. "Hmmm. I don't think I like the sound of that one, Becky."

"Bella," I correct him. "Well what about… this?" I point at the menu and wiggle my ass on his lap again. This time I'm pointing to a cocktail called _is that a banana in your pocket._

Edward drops his voice low enough so only Garrett, and I, can hear what he's saying. "A _raging_ _hard_-_on?" _He hisses under his breath, "You… want to give me… a _raging_ _hard_-_on?"_

I realize now that he's just making up dirty cocktail names to fuck with Garrett's head, because I can't see a cocktail called a '_raging_ _hard-on' _on the menu_,_ if such a thing even exists at all.

I nod and bite my bottom lip alluringly. "Yeah, I do."

"Fucking hell, Belinda," he says seductively, "with the way you've been rubbing that stellar arse of yours against my dick, I'd say you've already given me a _raging hard-on_."

**({'})** _Keep moving._ _It feels like_ _a semi at most… for now. Damn him and his self-control._

"I can tell. Ti piace il mio corpo? Prima ero un uomo…," I say a little breathlessly, and then I squirm again as if to reposition myself over his boner, "…and the name's still Bella, by the way."

Theatrically, Edward fake-stifles a small moan against my shoulder to stop himself from laughing. Moving his left hand higher along my thigh, he grips it tightly in warning.

Maybe asking him, "_Do you like my body_," and then telling him, "_I used to be a man_," in Italian, was taking it a little too far.

"Yeah, whatever, baby," he replies.

With Herculean strength, I manage to stay in character on the outside, but inside; my mind and body are desperately trying not to dissolve into fits of laughter, to the point that I'm worried I might rupture something internally.

The expression on Garrett's face is absolutely priceless. I'll bet he's wondering why I haven't slapped '_Tony's'_ face yet, because allegedly, he's a married man who's behaving like an absolute dick.

The rest of the group are involved in a loud conversation with Alec, pretending to be ignorant of what is going on, but they occasionally glance at the three of us and giggle.

Perusing the menu again, I try to follow Edward's lead with something suggestive.

"How about… a _comfortable screw _then?" I ask.

He replies huskily, "You know… I think I'd prefer a _sloe comfortable screw_."

I turn my gaze away from the menu and look directly into Edward's eyes. "I could really go for a _sloe comfortable screw against the wall _right about now."

"Yeah, now you're talking, but I think we can go a little… harder. How about a _long, sloe, comfortable screw up against a cold, hard wall… with a kiss?" _Our lips are only inches apart now.

"Are we still talking about buying each other a drink…," I pant, "…or something else?"

"Something else…" He smiles, giving me a predatory look.

"Your hotel or mine?"

"Mine."

"Where are you staying?"

Edward removes an object from his pocket. He presses a keycard into my hand, and I curl my fingers around it. At a glance, it looks just like the keycard Edward uses to access the office of Cullen-McCarty Charters at Olympia Regional Airport, and I try not to laugh.

"I'm in the Presidential Suite at the Shangri-La. Unfortunately, the Royal Suite was unavailable."

Garrett makes a choking sound at the back of his throat.

I raise an eyebrow at Edward, wondering if it's true or a complete load of bullshit for Garrett's benefit.

"But first, I want you… now, in my limo," he says.

I glance nervously between Edward and the rest of the group. "Just give me a few minutes to say goodbye to my friends, and I'll meet you out front," I say furtively, as if our conversation doesn't already have a half dozen eavesdroppers.

Edward strokes his hand twice up and down the full length of my thigh before nodding at me.

I stand up, and '_Tony'_ and Alec say their goodbyes to the group.

Edward makes a show of smoothing the front hem of his t-shirt over his crotch.

"As usual, It's been lovely seeing you, Bella," Alec says. "Sadly, we didn't manage to catch up the last time we were in your part of the world. Once the conference is over, you must come out to dinner. Athena was so excited when she learned you were in town. Well, I must be off. I have a taxi waiting for me outside. Can't afford to drink and drive these days, you know."

Hugging Alec goodbye, I silently snicker. Seriously, I love this guy. He's been terrific throughout our little charade. Alec makes his way out.

"Well, it's been great meeting you all. Bye ladies; Peter... Gary." Garrett starts to correct Edward's error, but Edward ignores him and leans in close to speak to me instead. "I'll be waiting in the limo," he says in a hushed voice, but still loud enough to ensure Garrett can hear us.

I nod and tell him that I won't keep him waiting too long, and then he, also, leaves the bar.

As soon as Edward is out of sight, I sit next to Garrett once again and pick my handbag up from the floor. I make a big production of searching through my bag.

"_Shit_! I'm out of condoms," I mutter in fake frustration under my breath, and then I regard the door of the restroom as if to recall there's a condom dispenser in there.

With a handful of Australian one and two-dollar gold coins in my grasp, I mention to the girls that I'm heading to the restroom, and they all decide they need to go, too – because that's what we women folk do.

"Oh my God, that was hilarious," Sasha says. "Did you see the look on Garrett's face when you sat on Edward's lap?"

"Sat on his lap? She was on the verge of giving him a bloody lap dance!" Senna says wheezing with laughter and dabbing the tears from the corners of her eyes with a Kleenex.

"I know, right? Fook me, Swanny, that was dead funny. I could swear at one point that Garrett was about to pop an aneurysm. If looks could kill, Edward would be six feet under. What the hell were you two saying?" Siobhan asks."

I explain how our dirty cocktail conversation had led to bogus plans for sex in a limo before heading to a swanky hotel for even more sex. When I show them Edward's fake hotel room keycard they burst out laughing again.

"So what are you going to do now?" Senna asks. "Does Edward even have a hotel room, or will you be staying with us tonight at the manor?"

"I have no idea," I reply. "He just said he'll meet me out front with a car."

"Okay, well just ring one of us later so we'll know whether to expect you back tonight," Senna says. "If necessary, you and Edward can have the double bed, and then Sasha and I will take the bunk."

"But try to keep the moaning down to a minimum, okay?" Sasha jokes. "You know I'm a light sleeper."

"With Edward in bed with me, I don't know if that is humanly possible." We all start giggling again.

Recomposing ourselves, we exit the restroom. Senna, Sasha, and Siobhan sit down again, but I make my excuses and hug them goodbye, promising to meet them for breakfast tomorrow. I say goodbye to Peter and Garrett and head for the front door.

When I step outside, I see a liveried chauffeur opening the back door of a limousine, and Edward climbs out of the back seat. I move forward to meet him, and he kisses me passionately. When I climb in, I find Alec sitting on the far side seat.

"We meet again, Bella. So, how did I do? Do you think Garrett bought it?" He reaches forward and takes my hand in his, kissing the back of it just like before. I chuckle and note his wedding ring is back in its rightful place.

"You were magnificent, Alec. You were awesome. You've undoubtedly made it on to my Christmas card list. That was so much fun."

Alec laughs.

Once Edward gets into the limo, the chauffeur closes the door for him. As the ignition starts, we all turn when we unexpectedly hear loud, insistent knocking on Edward's window. Through the dark, tinted glass, we see Garrett standing there.

**({'})** _Christ on a bike… I can't believe he still doesn't get it. _

**({'}) **_Buy a fucking vowel for $250, Dickwad. And the answer is: "She's just not that into you!"_

Clearly, Garrett can't take a hint.

"Do you want me to lower the window, Miss?" the chauffeur asks.

"Nah," I say, "just drive off… really fast."

The driver takes off at speed, and I chuckle when I see Garrett's pissed-off expression through the back window.

"Where to, sir?" the chauffeur asks.

"McMahon's Point, to the Harbourside Apartments, please," Alec says.

"Very good, sir."

"You know, I kinda wish the windows weren't so darkly tinted. It would have been amusing if Garrett could witness me flipping him off. What a fucking dickhead," Edward mutters, while taking his phone out of his pocket. He turns it on and appears to search for a number.

"So now that you've managed to lure me away from my new friends, where do you plan on taking me?"

"Alec and I haven't eaten yet, so we were planning on picking up Athena and going somewhere for dinner. Do you think you can manage to fit in some dessert?" Edward puts the phone up to his ear.

I nod. "I only had two slices of pizza about an hour and a half ago, so I could eat again."

Alec leans in and gently touches my arm to get my attention. "I truly meant what I said before about getting together for dinner. I think you and my dear wife will get along famously."

"Hi, I was just wondering if you have strict dress codes for your restaurants?" Edward asks into the phone. "Mmhmm... I see... In that case, can I make a reservation for four people at Café Mix for eight? Great... book it under Cullen. Thank you. Bye."

Alec takes out his phone and dials a number before speaking. "Athena? Yes, it's me, darling. We're heading to Café Mix at the Shangri-La Hotel for dinner. Our booking is at eight. We'll be arriving in approximately five minutes to pick you up… no need to dress up fancy."

I raise an eyebrow at Edward. "So you mean to tell me that you are, in fact, staying in the Presidential Suite at Shangri-La?"

Edward shakes his head and laughs. "No. We do have a reservation there for tomorrow night, after the conference dinner, but it's not in the Presidential Suite. We'll be in the Harbour View room. With all the last-minute changes, I wasn't sure if you'd prefer to stay one more night with your friends at the manor, or stay with me. If you do want to stay with them, Alec says I can doss down on the couch at their apartment. I haven't reserved anything for tonight yet; do you want me to call to see if I can get us a room?"

"Absolutely," I say enthusiastically, "but I'd like to be back at the manor in time for breakfast with the girls."

"That's fine. As Alec said before, I've got a 6:00am breakfast meeting with the rest of the crew, and then we'll be out on the water for half of the day. We can easily drop you back at the manor in time for breakfast."

My phone rings and the caller display says it's Senna.

"Hello?"

"_Hi, Bella, um… Garrett just wanted me to pass on a message to you. He says you shouldn't be out with that Tony guy, 'cause he's married. Says he saw the guy take off his wedding ring and everything."_

**({'})** _Pot meet kettle, anyone?_

I start laughing. "Oh, really?"

"_Yeah_."

"Like it's any of his fucking business. Who in the hell does he think he is? By the way, I won't be back until breakfast. We're getting a room at the Shangri-La."

"_Slut!_"

I burst out laughing again. "Hey, actually… tell Garrett I'm with '_Tony'_ because I have a bit of a weakness for married men."

She yells into the phone. "_A weakness for married men?_" Then she pauses as if listening to me speak. "_What do you mean forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest?_" I laugh during another pause. "_I thought you were more discriminating than that, you... you… homewrecking whore! You better not show your face back here tonight, Bella."_

I start to respond, but then I hear Garrett badgering Senna to talk to me on the phone. I have no idea how she's managing to keep it together.

"_Oh… I'm sorry, Garrett…_" I hear her say, "_Bella just hung up on me after I called that no good tramp some choice names…" _The line goes dead.

Alec and Edward look at me in amusement.

"That was Senna." I chuckle. "Garrett totally bought it."

-oo0oo-

**10:30pm – Executive Grand Harbour View Room.**

**({'}) **_Ugh… I can't believe he fell asleep!_

I cross the floor from the bathroom to the bed and look closely at Edward. I'd only left him alone for five minutes to take a quick shower to freshen up, and he's already out like a light. I guess the hours of air travel, sailing, alcohol, and minimal sleep finally caught up to him.

After booking our hotel room, he had come here to drop off his bags and to shower while Alec, Athena, and I had drinks before dinner. I had wanted to head up to our room with Edward, but he said we'd probably never leave, and then Alec and Athena would be left alone in the restaurant to wonder what had happened to us. He knows that seeing him emerge from a steamy shower with droplets of water clinging to his body makes me want to dry him off with my tongue.

Opening one of his suitcases, I pull out a soft, gray t-shirt and slide it over my head and arms.

**({'})** _Why are you getting dressed?_ _I want sex with the captain, dammit! _

Give him a break. He's obviously exhausted.

**({'}) **_Where's my long, slow, comfortable screw up against a cold, hard wall? _

**({'}) **_Golf anyone?_

I walk over to the large windows and draw the curtains. At night, the views of the Sydney Opera House, Circular Quay and the Harbour Bridge are spectacular. In eleven days' time, I'll bet this room will have breathtaking views of the New Year's Eve fireworks display.

Slipping beneath the covers, I shuffle my body backwards against his chest to spoon. Lifting his right arm, I drape it around my body, placing his large, warm hand under the t-shirt and over my heart. Even in slumber, his hand moves across and grabs a boob.

Sighing in contentment, I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come quickly. I find I'm still awake past midnight due to Libby's continuous nagging ache.

Finally, just when I start to drift into sleep, Edward's breathing pattern changes, and his hand moves beneath the t-shirt.

I can feel Edward pressing his hardening cock firmly against my ass as his lips begin to kiss my shoulder. Gliding his palm along my abdomen, he ultimately reaches down to cup my pussy, and his magical fingers begin to rhythmically stroke.

My own hand reaches behind me, to cup the back of his head, and I silently curse his short, crewcut style because I'm no longer able to entangle my fingers in his hair.

"Lasciami mostrarti la via del cielo," he whispers.

When his teeth scrape against the side of my neck, and his long fingers penetrate me, an involuntary moan escapes from my throat.

**({'}) **_Welcome home, El __Capitán__. You've kept me waiting... _

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Translations **

**- Ti piace il mio corpo? Prima ero un uomo. = **_**Do you like my body? I used to be a man.**_

**- Lasciami mostrarti la via del cielo. = **_**Let me show you the way to heaven.**_

**The cocktail names mentioned in this chapter and the previous one are real (including the **_**raging hard-on**_**). **

**The sex toys in this chapter are real too… and before you ask, I don't own any of them. I just Googled.**

**The Honey Rider is also a real bar. I've never been there, but here's a little slide-show of the inside of the bar and also the Sydney Shangri-La Hotel if you are curious. As usual, remove brackets to get the link to work ****(http)(:/)(/bit.)****ly/dnw-sydney**

* * *

><p><strong>Libby? Can you come here for a moment? I have something to say.<strong>

**({'}) **_Whut? I'm trying to watch The Vagina Monologues here…_

**It seems the lovely Twi-fic author, middlewife, nominated you in the ****Twilight Eclipse Awards.**

**({'})** _Oh, really? *gushes*_

**Ugh. Please don't do that. Now you've gone and made a mess. *passes a wet wipe***

**({'}) **_Sorry. So… what category did she nominate me for? Most bitchin' beaver? Most beautiful cooter? Most gifted twat? Best hairstyle? _

***crickets***

**({'}) **_Am I up against any other vaginas? Is the competition stiff?_

***more crickets***

**({'}) **_Oh… I can't believe I just said that. *blushes*_

**Don't do that either. It makes you look aroused.**

**({'}) **_Sorry_.

**Middlewife nominated you for ****the best original character.**

**({'})** _Oh my God. *sobs* Oh my God. *sobs* This moment… is so much bigger… than me… *sobs*_

**Sweet Jeebus. Are you reenacting Halle Berry's first Oscar acceptance speech right now?**

**({'})** _Maybe_…

***facepalm* Anyway… I just wanted to say thank you, and to inform everyone that voting will take place between the 5****th**** and 19****th ****of May 2012. The voting link is at the bottom of my profile if anyone would like to vote. There are some excellent stories to vote for, so it would be nice to acknowledge those fic writers who write for love and not money.**

**({'}) **_No money? So what do I win?_

**I dunno. It's a popularity contest. I guess you'll get bragging rights.**

**({'}) **_Is that all? No cheque? No shiny statuette? No buildings named in my honour?_

**Just say thank you, Libby.**

**({'}) **_Thank you, Libby._

***head desk***

**({'})**_ Disclaimer: __The views expressed by the author are not necessarily those of the vajayjay._


	136. Chapter 136

_**Friday, December 21st - The Manor, Cremorne Point - 5:40am.**_

I watch and wave goodbye to Edward and Alec as their driver executes a three-point turn and then speeds along the peaceful, tree-lined street. They should make it to Darling Point just in time for their 6:00am breakfast meeting with the rest of the Breaking Dawn crew.

Turning with a contented sigh, I enter through the blue door of The Manor, which is beautifully surrounded by decorative leadlight glass. After sliding my key into the lock of the family suite, and gently closing the door behind me so as not to wake anyone who may still be sleeping, I'm met by an unexpected vision.

Peter is fast asleep, face down on the queen-size bed, and the girls are nowhere in sight. Confused, I tiptoe my way across the room and then poke my head around the doorway of the second bedroom.

Siobhan is sitting up in the single bed, propped against the wall, and she's reading something on her laptop. Sasha and Senna are sleeping on the bunk bed.

"Morning," I whisper, causing Siobhan to look up from her screen. She smiles.

"Hey! How was your night?" she asks quietly.

"It was great." I walk into the room and sit down cross-legged on her bed. "We had dinner at Café Mix with Alec and his wife, and our room at the Shangri-La is gorgeous."

"Lucky cow."

My curiosity is piqued, and I have to ask her about the man sleeping in the next room. "Mind telling me why Petal is sleeping in our suite?"

She rolls her eyes. "After you left, Garrett was going on and on about how you went off with _Tony_. Peter got fed up to the back teeth with Garrett's behavior, and he just spilled it all. He revealed that Tony was actually Edward - your boyfriend - and said he'd been punked. He told him how we'd known all along that he was married, that his conduct was disgusting, and said he felt sorry for his poor wife for putting up with a jerk like him.

"So, Garrett had a hissy fit and started yelling and carrying on, behaving like a right plonker. He said he wouldn't be made a laughing stock of, and blah, blah, blah. Peter got narky; they nearly came to blows… and that's when we were asked to leave the bar by security."

"Shit. I'm sorry your evening was ruined. If I'd known things would blow up like that, I would have thought twice. Is Peter okay?"

Siobhan nods. "He's perfectly fine, and honestly; you did us all a favor. Garrett took off in a taxi, so the rest of us decided on a spot of shopping and had a fab time. When we got back though, we saw all of Peter's belongings had been left outside of their suite, so we told him that he could use the big bed since you were staying with Edward."

Just then we hear a yawn from the top bunk and Senna rolls over to face us. "Morning, Miss happy home-wrecker, I see you've returned to us having just done the walk of shame."

I chuckle. "You're just jealous."

"Of course I am! Are you and Edward looking forward to partying with us tonight?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait. Now hurry up and get out of bed! I need some breakfast because this morning I worked up quite an appetite." I give her a sly wink.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again - Lucky cow." Siobhan then smacks me over the head with a pillow.

-oo0oo-

_**Taronga Center – 7:45pm.**_

With the setting of the sun, Sasha, Senna, Siobhan, Peter, and I finally arrive at the Taronga Center. We're here for the last event of the Speech Pathology Australia 2012 conference – the Guild dinner.

With this year's dinner having a water theme, they've decided to hold the event next to the water's edge on the spectacular Soden Lawns as the space has an uninterrupted view of Sydney Harbour and the city skyline.

Shaking my head, I chuckle at my four companions who appear to be struggling with their complex outfits.

Last night, after leaving the Honey Rider bar, Senna rang Chauffeured Solutions and asked if Lee could take them on a drive around the city for some late-night shopping. Not far from the bar, Peter had spotted a fancy dress hire store and asked Lee to pull the car over to the side of the road. In the window, there were four costumes depicting an underwater scene.

On a whim, (and probably under the influence of alcohol) they decided the costumes they'd bought from home were lame, so instead, they rented the entire window display.

While my swimming instructor outfit may not be as glamorous as theirs, I'm comfortable and can easily traverse the lawns without fear of boiling to death inside a vintage deep-sea diver suit, or tripping over my own feet in a skin-tight mermaid costume. Searching the crowd, I'm on the lookout for Edward. He should be here already.

"Can you see Edward anywhere," I ask, turning to look at my four friends again.

"What's he supposed to be dressed as?" Peter asks. Sweating profusely, he's carrying his diving helmet under one arm. Sasha is holding onto his other arm for support as she gingerly makes her way to the bottom of the three-tiered lawn area.

"A lifeguard," I reply.

We all take a few moments to scan the meandering groups of people. It's starting to get quite dark, but the tiki torches and the strands of twinkle lights I can see strung overhead between the trees haven't yet been lit.

Among the crowd, there are several pirates, more mermaids and a King Neptune. There's a pregnant seahorse, a few jellyfishes, a couple of sharks, and a few surfers and snorkelers. I laugh when I see a guy dressed as a surfer dude that looks as though he's in the process of being devoured by a shark. The innovation that has gone into some of the costumes is staggering.

**({'})** _Oh, dear. That's just… tragic._

Libby's right. Disturbingly, there's a woman dressed in a slutty sailor girl outfit. It's similar to the ones I've seen in Makenna's adult store.

**({'}) **_She's easily pushing over fifty; how embarrassing._

I still can't see Edward. "There must be about a dozen guys here dressed as lifeguards," I complain.

"Maybe he's not here yet," Siobhan offers.

Senna seems to be speaking to someone on her phone. She hangs up abruptly, and then says, "Oh, look; there he is, he's just moved to stand in line at the bar."

I smile wickedly. While I can only see him from the back, I'd recognize that robust butt in a pair of red board shorts anywhere. From this distance, I note he's wearing a red baseball hat and sunglasses."

"Hey watch this. I'm gonna sneak up on Edward. Let's see if I can surprise him." The girls and Peter follow as I proceed stealthily towards my prey.

As I get closer, I chuckle when I decipher the blurry, white writing on the fake lifeguard floatation device that is slung over his shoulder. It reads, "_Save water – drink beer_."

Standing behind him, I whisper next to his ear, "Hey there, sexy lifeguard. Just seeing your ass in these tight shorts makes me wet. Later on, I'll need you to give me the kiss of life to save me from drowning in my panties."

Before he can turn around, I grab his ass cheeks in my hands and give them a firm squeeze. He jumps slightly, and an amusing strangled sound emits from his throat. Turning around, he removes his aviator sunglasses.

And that's when I discover I've groped, and dirty talked to the wrong man.

**({'}) **__Uh-oh…__

With a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, the man smirks at me in amusement and raises an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, my God! I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I mean… I did it intentionally, but I swear I thought you were someone else."

If I could see myself in a mirror, I'm certain I'd see a blush of mortification extending all the way from my toes to the tips of my hair.

"Is that so?" the stranger says, smiling at me and chuckling softly. I regard the man before me who is wearing a red Baywatch Lifeguard jacket and shorts. He is bare-chested beneath the jacket, and while he's a remarkably handsome guy with a great body, he's not my Edward.

"Bell?"

And speaking of Edward…, that's his voice I hear coming from behind me.

**({'}) **_Double uh-oh…_

Fuck my life.

I hope and pray Edward realizes this was just an innocent case of mistaken identity, but I expect I'll have to spend the rest of the evening groveling for forgiveness.

Kill me. Now.

I turn around slowly, bracing myself to see an angry or disappointed Edward.

The girls are all pissing themselves with laughter at my expense, which doesn't astonish me in the least; however, I'm surprised to see Edward is just standing there, smirking at me, with his arms casually folded in front of his chest.

I'm also surprised to see he's not dressed as a lifeguard.

**({'}) **_Something is rotten in the state of Denmark._

Yes, I can definitely smell something fishy, and one look at the three mermaids tells me that it's them.

I get the feeling this was a set up, and I'm fairly certain it was orchestrated by Senna and my boyfriend, who is standing there looking like hot sin in a white naval officer's uniform.

**({'})** _An officer and a gentleman! Oh, how I love a man in uniform. *glug glug glug*_

An office and a gentleman, my lily-white, Washingtonian ass.

Damn sexy traitor.

I glare at the five conspirators before turning back to the stranger. "You're not an innocent victim in all of this, are you?"

He chuckles. "'Fraid not, Bella. Allow me to introduce myself. Hi..., I'm Stephan Palmer," he says, slipping an arm around my shoulder and leading me back to the group.

While I knew Senna and her fiancé were planning to vacation in North Queensland after the conference, I was unaware he would be here tonight.

"So when did you guys cook up this little prank?" I ask, directing my question at Senna as Edward high-fives Stephan.

"While I was getting dressed this morning, you were in the shower hogging the hot water. Your phone rang, and I saw that it was Edward, so I answered it.

"As we waited for you, we talked, and I mentioned Stephan would be arriving today. I asked if Edward would mind having a late lunch and keeping Stephan company while he picked up his costume for tonight, as he wouldn't know anyone in town and had a few hours to kill.

"So, anyway, it was while we were making the arrangements that I discovered you had sewn up the sleeves inside my t-shirt." Senna gives me her version of the bitch-brow, and I giggle.

At various times during our co-habitation at The Manor, I'd managed to short-sheet the beds, sew shut random arm or leg holes of their clothing, and lined their mattresses with paper which they didn't discover until they got into bed and were left wondering why the hell the bottom sheet felt weird and crunchy.

"I said to Edward how you had been pranking us all week, and that I needed to come up with a way to get you back for all of your shenanigans. Our revenge was hatched when Edward and Stephan picked up the naval officer's uniform from the hire store, and they decided to do the old switch-a-roo."

"I told Stephan how you always sneak up behind me and inappropriately grab me. I said one day it would come back to bite you on the arse if you did it in public, and it turned out to be the wrong person," Edward explains.

I scowl at Edward. "Oh, come on; you love it! Besides, you grab my butt at every opportunity, as well."

I then turn to look at Peter accusingly. "Peter! You should have warned me. You're supposed to be my compatriot, and I never did anything to you."

"I succumbed to peer pressure," he replies sheepishly.

Sasha interjects, "Plus, I bartered for his silence with a packet of Tim Tams."

My jaw drops in shock. "I can't believe you sold me out for a packet of chocolate cookies. What flavor where they?"

"Double-choc chewy caramel."

**({'}) **_Even you would have sold out your own father for a packet of those._

"You disappoint me. And to make matters worse, you didn't even share them with me! That's it… we can't be FaceBook friends anymore," I kid.

"This coming from the woman who was ready to dump me and immigrate to Australia for the very same cookies," Edward says, moving forward and turning to stand next to me. He places a playful kiss against my temple and lightly smacks me on the ass, making me yelp in surprise. In response, I viciously goose him, causing him to laugh and squirm away from me.

Senna rolls her eyes at us. "If you two can manage to remove your hands from each other's arses - we need to find our table."

Stephan sidles between me and Senna, offering us his arms to escort us to the banquet area. Taking an arm each, we lead the way with Stephan while the rest of the group trails behind us.

"No hard feelings, Bella?" Stephan asks as we walk along.

I vaguely gesture to the front of his shorts and smirk. "I dunno… I fondled your butt and talked dirty in your ear. Maybe you should be telling me if there were any hard feelings?"

When his mouth drops open in shock at my boldness, Senna starts laughing because apparently for once in his life, Stephan can't seem to think of a quick comeback remark.

When we find our table, Stephan, Edward and Peter offer to get us girls some drinks from the bar, and once seated, we discuss our plans for tomorrow, before we will finally part ways. We vow to keep in touch by email and FaceBook, and promise to look each other up if we are ever on the same continent.

-oo0oo-

As I savor the last delicious mouthful of my grilled salmon with avocado salsa, I stare at the view of Sydney Harbour and listen to the conversations taking place around our table. In the background, I can also hear Florence and the Machine's '_What The Water Gave Me_' playing. The song has me nodding my head and tapping my foot along to the beat. Naturally, all the songs played tonight have had a water theme.

_The Tide Is High_, _Only Happy When It Rains, Cry Me A River, __Nightswimming, Beyond The Sea, Rock Lobster, and Surfin' USA, _to name just a few.

So far, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves on this warm summer evening, and as Seal's cover version of '_I Can't Stand The Rain' _begins to play, a large group of people from one of the tables stands up and makes their way over to where the deejay has set up a makeshift dance floor.

Turning to address Peter, Edward asks, "So... what happened to Garrett? I thought he'd be here tonight." It's suddenly struck me that he's unaware of the drama that ensued after we left the Honey Rider bar.

"No idea. We think he must have packed up and left last night," Peter answers.

Peter and the girls go on to describe the events that occurred at the bar after we left.

Sasha then explains, "We thought Garrett had just chucked Petal out of their suite, but he never showed for breakfast, and then he didn't turn up at the conference either. He was supposed to be presenting his paper today. The conference Compere announced that he'd been called home on an urgent family matter, but I just think he ran away with his tail tucked between his legs."

"Oh well… good riddance to bad rubbish, I reckon," Siobhan says.

"Hear, hear," Senna and Peter say in unison, as I take a sip from my glass of Oldbury Reserve Sauvignon Blanc.

The music changes again, and I hear an orchestral intro. Edward turns to look at me. "Care to dance?"

I nod, and taking my hand, Edward leads me over to the dance floor and proceeds to sweep me off my feet as he croons along with Robert Plant.

_Do you remember when we met  
>That's the day I knew you were my pet<br>I wanna tell you  
>How much I love you<br>Come with me My love  
>To the sea<br>The sea of love  
>I wanna tell you<br>Just how much I love you_

**({'}) ***_Gurgle_*

And speaking of water… Edward's singing voice has once again reduced Libby into a quaking puddle of lust.

-oo0oo-

I look up into Edward's eyes as the last notes of Nick Cave's heartbreaking baritone voice rings out from the speaker stacks situated on either side of the dance floor. About a third of the conference partiers have called it a night, but many, like Edward and myself, are still dancing and having fun.

_Come sail your ships around me  
>And burn your bridges down<br>We make a little history, baby  
>Every time you come around…<em>

"Have I told you how sexy you are in this uniform?" I glide my hands up along his arms, and I run my fingers under the hems of his shirt sleeves to caress his muscular biceps, which have nicely increased in size over the last few months since he's been training hard as a grinder for the yacht race.

"No… as a matter of fact, you haven't." He grins crookedly, and it's apparent that just like me, he's pretty tipsy. Edward wraps his arms tighter around my body, in an attempt to draw me even closer to him. Our bodies are seemingly fused from hip to chest. "I was beginning to think you used up all of tonight's compliments on Stephan's arse," he says cheekily.

I roll my eyes at him, and he chuckles as we sway to the music. Reaching up and grabbing his officer's hat, I turn it around and place it on my own head.

"It looks good on you," he says seductively. "In fact, you should keep it on… for later." He winks at me.

**({'}) ***_drool_*

I raise an eyebrow in question. "What did you have in mind, because I may have a few plans of my own concerning you and this uniform?"

"Hmmm… it was just a little something that came to mind last night when we were role-playing. I really liked it when you were sitting on my lap and rubbing yourself all over me. You don't know how hard it was for me to stop myself from dragging you out of the bar, so I could take you in the back of Alec's limo." He waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively.

_'The Ship Song' _fades out, and P.J. Harvey's '_Down By The Water' _begins to play. Edward and I make our way back towards our table.

"You wouldn't be asking me to give you a lap dance by any chance? Because, I was actually thinking how hot it would be to watch _you_ dance and strip out of this uniform."

He screws up his face adorably and shakes his head. "Naaaaah. No one wants to see that."

**({'})** _Are you fucking kidding me? Women would pay money!_

"Oh, come on..."

**({'})** _Pleeeeeeeeeeease_?

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

"Nooooooooo," he whines. He sits at the table and pulls me down onto his lap. "That would be so… I dunno. I think I'd much rather see the likes of you dancing around in something sexy. How about you in my hat and shirt with your panties and fuck-me heels. Please tell me that you brought the heels with you," he begs breathily near my ear. Gripping my hips, he stealthily pulls me down a little harder over his groin.

He moans softly, and I laugh against the side of his neck. Edward truly has a thing for me in those heels. Whenever I leave the house in them, I'm lucky if I'm able to make it out the door undefiled.

"I tell you what… how about we play each other for it? If I win, you'll perform a striptease for me. If you win, I'll give you a lap dance."

"What should we play?" Before I can even manage to get the words out, he quickly states, "Not 'Words With Friends!" quashing my unspoken idea.

I pout. "Well, aren't you just a sore loser." We had started playing WWF about a month ago, and so far, Edward has only beaten me twice.

"Am not," he says defensively. "It just takes way too long. How about rock, paper, scissors?"

I shake my head. "That's lame. Where's the skill?"

Suddenly, Edward's face lights up with an idea, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. "Gimme your phone."

I fish my iPhone out of my shorts pocket and hand it to him. Edward's fingers move over the screens, and a few minutes later, he tells me to get off his lap and to sit on the other side of the table.

I look towards the dance floor to where the rest of the group is still gathered. Senna and Stephan are hanging off one another, while Siobhan, Peter and Sasha are dancing together as a group.

Edward passes my phone back to me. Hearing dramatic music coming from its small speaker, I look at the graphics on the screen and then chuckle. "You seriously want to play this?"

"What? I thought it was perfectly in keeping with the theme of the night," he says, grinning. I'll bet he thinks he's so fucking clever.

I snicker again hoping to unsettle him. "It's perfect. Just be warned… I rule this game."

It's been a few years since I last played, but as a kid, I used to be pretty decent at it. I remember weekends staying at Grandpa Joshua's cabin near the river, and on days when it was too rainy to go fishing, dad and I used to break out the graph paper and pens and play it for hours. Then one year, dad bought me the proper game for my birthday.

"We shall see," he says confidently. He salutes me, and I salute him in response. "Ready?"

"You are so going down, Cullen."

**({'}) **_Oh, yeah, baby! Go Team Bella!_

He grins wickedly and starts humming something as he begins to position his fleet. When I hear Edward hissing, "_Dirty dog… I'm, I'm a dirty dog_," I realize he's singing the lyrics of '_Lapdance'_ to himself.

The cocky bastard.

Deciding to play dirty, I slip off one of my shoes and then place my foot between his legs, stroking my toes up and down the insides of his thighs.

"You know... for the daughter of a cop, you are such a cheater."

"All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," I say, batting my eyelashes coquettishly.

I then look down at my own screen with determination and plan my strategy.

-oo0oo-

_**10 minutes later…**_

"Fuck… you sunk my battleship!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN - He-he. The evil cliffie. **

**A special thank you to those of you who said they voted for Libby in The Twilight Eclipse Awards. The winners will be announced on June 2****nd****. God help us if she wins. She's already fired two stylists this week. **

**So… have you ever groped the wrong person's arse accidentally? **

**It happened to me when I was 17, and it was made worse by the fact that the boy was naked (yes, you read that correctly - butt naked). Now, there is a perfectly plausible explanation as to how such a mix up occurred, but in order to discover that, you will have to **read a little one-shot called I wrote called 'New Moon'.****

**Lyrics used in this chapter:****  
>The Sea Of Love - The Honeydrippers (Ftg Robert Plant)<br>The Ship Song - Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds.  
>Lapdance - N.E.R.D.<strong>

**Other songs mentioned in this chapter****:  
>What The Water Gave Me - Florence and the Machine<br>The Tide Is High - Blondie  
>Only Happy When It Rains - Garbage<br>Cry Me A River**** - Justin Timberlake****  
>Nightswimming - REM<br>Beyond The Sea - (Cover) Robbie Williams  
>Rock Lobster - B52s<br>Surfin' USA - The Beach Boys  
>Cant Stand The Rain - (Cover) Seal<br>P.J. Harvey - Down By The Water**

**B.O.B xxx**


	137. Chapter 137

"I. Win!" Looking up from my iPhone, I smirk at Edward.

"Best out of three; double the stakes," he says calmly, before glancing up from his own phone to look at me through his lashes.

"What do you mean?"

Sitting up straight, he explains, "The loser has to perform to two songs. First song's a strip, and the second song's a lap dance."

I laugh at the thought of Edward performing a lap dance. "You'll really lap dance for me?" I raise a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Why not? How hard can it be?" He grins.

I give his suggestion some serious thought. I've already won, but this offer has me intrigued.

It could be incredibly hot or downright hilarious – either way it would be worth it.

**({'})** _Do it!_

Maybe I could even video him with my phone or use the webcam on my laptop.

**({'}) **_Yes!_

Hmmm. Should I?

**({'}) **_Go Bella, go Bella, go Bella, go Bella. Woooo Team Bella!_

Apparently, the vajayjay has spoken.

"Okay, best out of three." I organize my fleet on the grid.

"Ready?" he asks.

I nod. "You, my very young apprentice, are about to be schooled in the art of war."

"Oh, really?" he says, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Really."

-oo0oo-

I stare in disbelief at my screen.

_GAME OVER! You've lost all of your fleet._

I can't believe it. He totally slaughtered me.

This time, I only managed to destroy his carrier.

Sneaky shit.

**({'})** _Maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea after all._

Edward gloats, "Your efforts to school me have failed. I think you'll find the apprentice has now become the master." He grins cockily.

**({'}) **_I smell a rat!_

"You lost the first game on purpose!"

"I swear I didn't."

"Then how did you win so fast?"

He shrugs. "Just lucky, I guess. Now… it's time for the decider."

Dragging my fleet out of dry dock, I arrange my ships, making sure to position them as differently as possible from the first two games.

This time around, Edward starts, and with the very first missile, he hits my cruiser.

Fuck!

He fires another shot.

Another hit, and then a miss.

It's my turn now.

**({'})** _Fire!_

Damn. It's a miss.

Edward fires and delivers a critical blow. My cruiser is dead in the water.

He fires again, narrowly missing my submarine.

Back and forth, we trade missiles.

I crush his carrier, and then his cruiser.

He sinks my submarine, and then my carrier.

I conquer his battleship and his destroyer.

He annihilates my battleship.

All that stands between me and victory is Edward's submarine; cowering on three squares somewhere on the grid.

I only have my destroyer left, and it's sitting in the middle of the screen - taking up just two squares on the grid. It's the smallest craft of the fleet.

Fire. Miss.

Fire. Miss.

Fire.

I'm hit! I'm hit!

I look up, and Edward grins wickedly, knowing he's one strike away from victory.

He fires… and misses.

I've been granted a reprieve. He fired left when he should have fired right.

My turn.

Fire. A hit!

He has placed his submarine on the far left of the screen. I only have to choose up or down.

Choosing _up_, I fire again.

Another hit!

One more hit and I'll be the winner.

**({'})** _Destroy him!_

Up or down?

Up or down?

Which way to go?

**({'})** _Up?_

Taking Libby's counsel, I choose the square above the last hit.

**({'}) **_Fire!_

Oh fuck! It missed.

I should have chosen down.

That's the last time I'll ever let my vagina do the thinking for me.

**({'}) **_Yeah, right…_

I watch Edward as he ponders the screen. He has three options available to choose from: up, down, or right. If he chooses wrongly, I can still win this.

**({'}) **_Use the force. Reach out with your mind._

**({'}) **_Choose up or down, Edward. This is not the destroyer you are looking for._

Libby? Are you seriously trying to '_Obi_-_Wan__' _Edward right now?

**({'}) **_Do you have any other bright ideas, Einstein?_

Staring intently at Edward, I mentally will him to choose up or down.

Edward takes the shot.

He smirks victoriously, and I look down at my screen.

_GAME OVER! You've lost all of your fleet._

"Best out of five?" I ask sheepishly. "Three songs?"

Edward shakes his head. "Nope. I'm perfectly content to watch you perform to just two songs." He winks.

Damn.

I'm so screwed.

Edward looks down at his watch. "We probably have about fifteen minutes until our ride gets here to drive us back to The Manor to pick up your bags and then on to our hotel. Wanna a chance to save some face, Bella?"

"How?"

"Play one more game."

"What are the stakes this time?"

"Um. I dunno. How about… an undeniable request."

"An undeniable request? What do you mean?"

"It means the winner gets to ask the loser to do something within the next 24 hours, and the loser has to do it - no backing out."

I shake my head. "No way." Edward starts to make noises like a chicken, and I roll my eyes at him. "If you win, you'll just use it as an opportunity to ask me for butt sex."

He laughs. "Honestly, that didn't even cross my mind, but now you've mentioned it..."

I give him a suspicious look, and he laughs again.

"I'm kidding! Okay, let's say that if I win, I won't ask for… that."

"So, I could ask you to do anything?"

"I will do anything that is physically within my ability to do. Name it, and I will do it, but only if you win."

Hmm. Tempting.

-oo0oo-

_You Win! Your Score - 1907!_

Looking up from my screen, I smile in satisfaction.

"In your face, Captain!"

"So, I guess you'll be keeping your clothes on…" he says.

"Huh?"

"I just figured that if you won, then you'd ask me to release you from the conditions of the previous bet, so you don't have to strip."

I ponder over what he's just said and realize he's giving me a way out. Maybe that was his plan all along.

While it's tempting to call the whole thing off, because I've never done anything like this before, a part of me wants to see how he'll react if I do go through with it.

Another part of me (namely Libby) is excited at the prospect of driving Edward insane with lust. Plus looking at him now, forlornly staring down at his phone - he looks like a kid who has lost his shiny new toy.

"No. I think I'll save my undeniable request for something else."

"Really?" It's funny how quickly his expression transforms. He now resembles a kid on Christmas morning, and I inwardly snicker. "I thought for sure you'd back out."

"I considered it, but like you said, 'How hard can it be?'"

-oo0oo-

**Saturday, 22****nd**** December - 12:30am - Executive Grand Harbour View Room.**

Can I come back to our room yet? Ed xx

_**Give me another hour - or 2. - B xxx**_

The bar closes in half an hour, and so far 3 women have offered me their phone numbers. It must be the uniform. ;o) Ed xx

_**Wow. Only 3? You must be losing your touch, or as you say, it must be the uniform. - B xxx :p**_

Oh ha-ha you're hilarious. O_o Now when can I come back? Ed xx

_**Gimme 30 minutes. - B xx **_

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." What have I gotten myself into?

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I turn back to my laptop and search through my iTunes list to find the perfect song. I have 2026 songs to choose from.

It would take me 5.6 days to listen to all of them; and yet I can't find anything that inspires me, or feels just right.

"How hard can it be?" I say in a sarcastic tone to my screen, mocking my famous last words on the subject of exotic dancing.

I whimper in frustration and consider locking myself in the bathroom for the night.

A message pops up on my screen, accompanied by a chime. I have an incoming Skype call from Alice. Clicking the 'answer' option, I see her smiling face.

"G'day, maaaaaaaate," she says, giving me a horrible rendition of Aussie strine.

"Hey, Ali." From the looks of it, she's still in bed. I look at the time on my screen and calculate the time difference. "Why are you calling me at five-thirty in the morning?"

She rubs the top of her baby belly. "Lately, David Beckham Junior has decided that five in the morning is a terrific time to play kick the bladder. I decided to play on my laptop for a while, and I saw you were online. Why are you up late? Isn't it like… nearly one in the morning over there?"

"I lost a bet with Edward."

Alice looks confused. "What? You lost a bet, and now you have to stay awake all night?"

"No. I lost a bet and… now I _havetostripandgive Edwardalapdance_. I have no idea what to do," I whine.

"Whoa. Slow down, and take your hand away from your mouth when you speak. You have to what for Edward?"

I blush and start to fidget. "Um… I have to perform a striptease and give Edward a lap dance. I have no idea what I'm doing."

Alice starts giggling and then looks to her left. Her image starts to wobble violently.

"Jazz! Jazzy! Wake up!" she yells.

Oh, dear lord. "No!"

Off-screen, Jazz mumbles drowsily, "Whud'up?"

"What are you doing?" I hiss. "Don't wake him!" I had no idea Jazz was still next to her in the bed, and now she's gone and woken him up.

"What the-?" I can hear the sound of bedding being rearranged, and a few grunts and groans. "It's five in the frickin' morning, Ali! At this time of the day, you better be wantin' to ride the pony express again, or else going into premature labor," he mutters indignantly.

Alice's laptop has migrated during the jostling, and now I'm left staring at a skewed image of her braless, pregnancy-expanded boobs, merrily jiggling within a loose, yellow tank top as she continues to shake her husband awake.

**({'}) **_It's just like watching one of those lava lamps, isn't it?_

"Jazzy," she whines. "Bella needs your help."

"What? NO! Bella does not need your help," I call out. "Bella is hanging up!"

His voice sounds muffled, but I hear him say, "Whad'da she want?"

"Nothing!" I call out. "It's all under control."

"Bella's going to sexy dance for Edward, and she needs your professional advice."

Suddenly, Jasper's head appears in front of the camera. His face is sideways on the screen, taking up the whole picture. "Hellooooo, Bella Marie," he drawls, and then he smiles sleepily.

I sigh and roll my eyes in exasperation. "Good morning, Jazz."

He removes his head from Alice's lap, and the screen suddenly pans around wildly.

As he carries the laptop to another part of the room, I'm left to stare at his right nipple ring, the tattooed head of a water dragon, and a swaying Celtic-style crucifix that dangles from a long chain around his neck.

Before seating himself in front of what I presume is their dressing table, I catch a glimpse of his boxer shorts and laugh. They are red, and at the top of both thighs, there are images of emergency fire alarm panels. On the panels, in white lettering, are the words…

IN CASE OF _  
><em>EMERGENCY_  
><em> PULL_  
><em>DOWN_  
><em>l_  
><em>V

"What's so funny?" he asks. His hair is a chaotic mess, and he has two L-shaped crease lines on one side of his face. It looks as though he may have slept face-down on top of the crucifix. He scrubs his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up, and then pulls his hair back into a low pony tail.

"Never mind. Look, I didn't mean for Ali to wake you."

"S'okay, I'm awake now. May as well get used to waking up at unearthly hours with our kid arriving in four months. Now, Ali said something about sexy dancing?" He raises a mischievous eyebrow at me and smirks.

"I am _not_ discussing this with you, Jazz."

"Awww. You can talk to me. You know what I used to do for a living, right?"

"Oh, come on. You only did it for a few months before your mommy dragged you out the front door by your ear."

"True, I only performed for a few months, but I didn't just turn up there one day and shake my money maker. I took professional lessons at a studio for six months before signing up for my first strip gig."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. So I have access to some resources if you want my help," he says seriously.

"Like what?"

"Kimberly, the girl who taught me, has a website with tutorial videos and demonstrations so people can learn and practice from home. I can give you my log-in, and you can watch a few quick lessons – learn a few basic moves."

"Um… yeah. Okay… that would be helpful, I guess. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Move over," I hear Ali say, and Jasper shuffles across slightly to allow her to sit next to him. Both of their faces are visible on my screen.

"What made you decide to do this and what did you have in mind?" he asks.

"Edward and I were playing Battleships, and the wager was that the loser has to give the winner a striptease and a lap dance," I explain. "I have no clue as to what to do. I was actually thinking about doing '_an Alice_', and locking myself in the bathroom, when she called me on Skype."

Alice scowls at me for bringing up her wedding night disaster… yet again.

He chuckles. "Okay, let me send you the link and my password, and we'll watch the videos together."

"This is so weird," I complain. A link appears on my screen. I click on it and enter the password. "Okay, I'm in."

"See the videos called '_wall_' and '_floor_'?" he asks," Click on those, one after the other for me."

As we watch the videos, Jazz points out the moves that are easy for beginners and a few intermediate moves I might be able to handle, keeping in mind that I'll be dancing on the carpet in high heels.

Some of the songs used in the videos are slow and sensual, while others are quicker and raunchy. I decide I want to start with a fast, raunchy song for the striptease, so I can have some fun teasing Edward. That way, it won't matter so much if I start laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. I just need to find the right song.

"Okay, moving on. Click on the video called '_lap dance routine_'," he says.

I do as he asks, and from the speakers, I hear slow music begin to play. It takes me a few moments to identify the song, but as soon as Thom Yorke starts to sing, it's clear to me.

_All I Need_.

Edward loves Radiohead and instantly I'm curious to know how I too can perform to the song.

The video shows the blonde woman, Kim, performing a routine while one of the female students from her class sits slouched in a black leather club chair. Both Kim and the student are casually dressed in tank tops, three-quarter-length Lycra workout pants, and stripper heels. Kim's movements are mesmerizing to watch, and now I know for sure I want to do this for Edward. Her routine is the sexiest thing I've ever seen two people do while still remaining clothed.

**({'})** _Wow!_

"Wow!" Alice says appearing just as impressed as I am when the video stops playing. "That video makes me wish I wasn't pregnant right now. I'd totally do that for you now if I could, Jazzy, but I'd probably look more like a comical belly-dancer than a sexy stripper." She pouts.

"We have our whole lives ahead of us, sugar," he says kissing her forehead. "Any time you want to do that for me, my sexy baby momma, I'll be ready and waiting." Forgetting where they are, they start kissing.

I tap insistently on my webcam lens to get their attention. "Um… helloooooo. Can you two like… not do that in front of me right now? I still need some help here, and I've only got ten minutes left to choose a song to strip to before Edward comes back. Plus, I need to put on some makeup and do something with my hair."

They break off their kiss and stare at each other goofily before turning to look at me again.

"I think my job here is done. I'm sure Ali can help you find something to dance to," Jasper says. He turns to look at Ali. "Hey, sugar. I'm gonna go make myself some coffee. Do you want me to bring you some peppermint tea?"

Ali nods, and Jazz stands to leave. I laugh once again when I see his boxers. "Good luck, Bella" he says turning to leave the room.

"Thanks, Jazz."

"Okay let's talk music," Ali chirps excitedly. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"After watching that video, I'm going to go with the Radiohead song. It's perfect, and I know Edward will love it. For the striptease, I want something a bit faster with dirty lyrics."

I grab my laptop and take it into the bathroom with me, so I can apply some makeup and do something with my hair. I think I have a hair clip somewhere in my toiletries bag.

"Sex On Fire – Kings of Leon," Ali suggests first up.

"Meh."

"Darling Nikki?"

"Nah. You know I can't stand Prince, or whatever the hell he's calling himself these days. Next…"

"Closer by Nine Inch Nails, or maybe So Hott by Kid Rock."

I shake my head. "I want something sung by a woman."

After brushing my hair, I pull it up into a messy French twist and secure it with a sparkly octopus clip at the back of my head, which will allow me to wear the white Navy officer's cap that came with Edward's costume.

"Oh, I know. Flower by Liz Phair."

"The lyrics are explicit, but the song is too slow. You're on the right track though. I need a song that will make Edward choke on his own tongue."

Ali laughs. "Okay. How about the Divinyls… I Touch Myself?"

"It's too obvious and overused. I want something that will come as a surprise - a song that Edward maybe hasn't heard before."

"You're not making this easy, you know!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

While Alice continues to search for just the right song, I leave the bathroom to get changed.

From my suitcase, I pull out the black and gold satin bra and panties set my mom belatedly sent for my birthday. I had told her how much Edward had liked the red and black Playboy set, so I was thrilled to see she'd gifted me another set from the same range. However, instead of bumster panties, this had a mini v-string. They were still brand new with the tags on, and Edward had yet to see them. I had originally planned to wear them on New Year's Eve, but decide now is the right moment.

As I'm about to pull on the fluffy hotel robe, I decide I'll probably need more layers if I'm going to do a striptease that will last between three and four minutes.

I know just the things to wear, and I retrieve them from my suitcase. I'd bought them on a whim last Monday night - my first night in Australia.

The girls and I had headed into the heart of Sydney for dinner. After dining at Macchiato Bar and Grill, we had strolled along Pitt Street, heading in the direction of the mall.

On the way, I had ventured into Kings Comics after seeing the cute Marvel Comics tight cami and boy shorts pajamas in the window. I just knew I had to buy them all, so I purchased a small She-Hulk set for Ali, and for Rose and Leah, I bought The Black Widow and Spider Girl sets. For myself, I bought the Captain America and Emma Frost sets.

I'll look like a slutty super heroine. Perfect.

Deciding on the Captain America pajamas, I put them on.

As I tie the sash on the robe, I can hear appallingly annoying music coming from my laptop speakers. Picking up my killer high heels, I decide to head back to the bathroom to investigate.

"What in the hell is this ghastly song?" I ask, sitting down in front of the mirror to apply some eyeliner and shadow.

The annoyingly repetitive intro - which sounds like a preppy cheerleader chant – is bad enough, but when the female artist starts to sing, the song firmly cements its place on the '_Top 5 excruciatingly irritating songs they'll play in Hell_' list.

I shudder, and my right eye begins to twitch in irritation as the song continues.

"It's Katy Perry's '_Peacock'," _she informs me_. _

I give Alice the '_are-you-fucking-kidding-me-with-this-shit?'_ expression, and she quickly takes the hint and stops the music.

"I take it you're not a fan of Katy Perry?"

"I'm just not a fan of auto-tune," I explain.

Alice throws up her arms in frustration. "I give up!"

"Don't give up on me yet," I beg. "I just want something a bit… you know… like… Mister; you're gonna sit here, take it, and enjoy it. _Grrrr._"

"Grrrr?"

"Yeah. Grrrr."

Suddenly, Alice appears to have a light-bulb moment, and then she giggles.

"What?" I ask.

"Hey, you like '_The Distillers_', right?"

"Yeah, sure…"

"Awesome." Ali starts tapping away on her keyboard.

I'm confused.

Although The Distillers can undoubtedly bring the 'G_rrrr'_, I can't seem to recall any of their songs fitting into the sexy category.

"Have you heard of Brody's other band - the one she formed after The Distillers broke up?" she asks.

I shake my head.

An email pops up telling me that I've been gifted a song on iTunes, and I accept.

I screw up my nose on reading the song title. "Is this a cover of the old Tom Jones song?" If it is, in fact, the same song, then it's definitely not what I had in mind.

"No it's not the same song at all. You said you wanted a song to make Edward choke on his tongue - this is guaranteed to do that." She giggles.

Once the song has downloaded, I click on it, and instantly a sound like a scratchy old vinyl record, comes through the speakers of my laptop. It's shortly followed by a synthesizer and a female voice.

_A one, two, three, four…_

The drum beat starts and already my head is nodding to the rhythm – that's a good sign.

_Ahh ooohhh!_

An electric guitar riff kicks in, and as I look at my reflection in the mirror, while applying the finishing touches of lipstick to my lower lip, I notice my whole upper body is unconsciously wiggling to the music.

_Ahhhhh ohh!_

The vocals start, and Brody Dalle sings sweetly.

At first, the lyrics seem kind of tame to match the relatively subdued tone of her voice. It's quite different compared to how she'd sung when she was with The Distillers.

But then the chorus starts…

**({'})** _Oh. My. God._

I burst out into giggles as I turn up the sound and start dancing around the bathroom.

**({'})** _Edward's gonna die._

Ali yells over the volume of the music. "It's perfect, right?"

I nod and keep dancing. Ali laughs and shimmies her shoulders to the music while still sitting in front of her own laptop.

Looking at the time, I realize I've only got about three minutes left until Edward returns, so I stop the song.

"Look, I gotta go. Edward will be back soon, and I still need to download the other song. Thank you so much for your help."

"Anytime, Belly. Remember to have fun and let me know how it goes, okay?"

"Okay, we'll talk soon. Bye."

I'm still downloading the Radiohead track into my iTunes account, when I hear Edward opening the door to our room.

"Bella?" he calls out, closing the door behind him.

"I'm in the bathroom. I'll be out in a sec," I call out. I quickly stand and close the door to, sticking my arm through a small gap between the door and the jamb. "Can you bring me your hat and shirt, please?"

After a few seconds, Edward hands me the articles I asked for, and I shut and lock the door before he can try to barge in. Knowing him as well as I do, if I let him in here now, I'll never get out of the bathroom unmolested.

As I fasten the buttons, his shirt still feels warm from the heat of his body, and it smells of his cologne.

He knocks on the bathroom door. "Can I come in?"

"Hell no! Um… just go get that tub-backed chair from near the window and put it in the center of the room, please."

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I strap on my heels and admire the way they make my average length legs look as though they go on forever.

Taking some deep, calming breaths, I try to recall some of the moves in the videos Jazz showed me. I pray I can pull this off with confidence and hope I don't fall over.

I suddenly have visions of falling flat on my face – just like Jamie Lee Curtis did during that infamous scene in True Lies where she danced for Arnie.

Standing, I pick the robe from the floor and hang it on the back of the bathroom door. I nervously smile at my reflection in the tall mirror opposite the vanity. I can now see myself from both angles.

So… how do I look, Libby?

**({'})** _Smokin' hot! Even I would do you…, and I'm you!_

Okay. Let's do this.

I pick up my laptop and tentatively open the bathroom door.

**({'})** _It's show time!_

* * *

><p><strong>AN – A little slide show of some of the things described in this chapter (__**http)(:/)(/bit**.ly)/DNW137 - just take out all the brackets to get the link to work.__  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Libby? Can you come here for a moment?<strong>

**({'})** _I'm not coming out._

**Why not? What's wrong?**

**({'})** _I had a run in with that last stylist… the stupid incompetent bitch! _

**If this is about the Eclipse Awards, you don't need to worry about making an acceptance speech. You didn't win… anything.**

**({'})** _Well thank Christ for that! Just look at the state of me!_

***gasps* Err. What the-? What _is_ that?**

**({'})** _It's silver Clitter._

**Clitter?**

**({'})** _Yeah, Clitter. It's glitter for your hoo-hoo. You know… turn your labia into YAYbia. You can Google it. It's on YouTube and everything, check out the video._

**You look like a sparkly vampire just jizzed all over you.**

**({'})** _Yeah, yeah…very funny. It won't wash out._

**It won't?**

**({'})** _No, and you know what's worse? I think Bella's going to resort to drastic measures. _

**You mean another Brazilian waxing?**

**({'})** *_sobs_* _I saw her stocking up on Dr Numb Cream._ *_wails_*

**There, there. Um… I'd pat you to comfort you, but that would be... awkward.**

**({'})** *_wails_* *_snots_*

**I have some good news that might cheer you up, though.**

**({'})** _What's that? *sniffle*_

**The lovely Missleez has been busy translating your story and soon it will appear on FFN.**

**({'})** _Yeah? What language?_

**French.**

**({'})** _Oh. I like the sound of that. Everything sounds better in French. French is très sexy._

**I knew that would cheer you up.**

**({'})** _I love sexy French things._

**Glad you approve.**

**({'})** _French kissing. French knickers. French maid's costumes. French ticklers. French lace lingerie. French fries._

**French fries?**

**({'})** _I was just testing to see if you were still listening to me._

**You are so strange. Say goodbye, Libby.**

**({'})** _Goodbye, Libby._


	138. Chapter 138

**A/N - You may want to give these two songs a listen to get you in the mood if they are unfamiliar. Remove brackets for links to work.**

**(http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Spinerette-sexbomb  
>(http)(:)(/bit.)ly/All_I_Need_RH**

* * *

><p>After opening the bathroom door and stepping into the room, I notice two things.<p>

Firstly, the overhead lights have been turned off. The space is now softly illuminated by the dim glow emanating from the bedside lights and two large floor lamps situated in the far corners of the room.

Secondly, and most importantly, Edward is seated in the leather tub-backed chair, positioned a few feet away from the king-size bed, and he's wearing nothing but a pair of white Calvin Klein boxer briefs and a lazy smile.

Throughout the room, Edward's shoes, socks, pants, belt, and singlet are haphazardly littering the floor.

"Someone's eager," I say, stating the obvious, before standing in front of the tall mirror that is attached to the wall near the bathroom doorway.

"Are you seriously complaining?" he asks.

I adjust the hat upon my head as it threatens to slip forward over my eyes. "I just thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be getting naked." I turn to look at him and raise a questioning eyebrow.

Reaching behind him with one arm, Edward grasps the curved back of the chair. He bucks his hips forward and slouches down. "All the better to feel your body with, cara mia," he says, patting his fingers on his thigh. "Clothes would just get in the way, don't ya think?" He then tilts his head to the side and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Chuckling at his antics, I walk past him and head towards a large dresser that has a flat-screen TV sitting on its glassed-topped surface. I place my laptop on the dresser, open it, and cue the first song in iTunes.

"Ready?" I ask, coyly looking over my shoulder at him.

He doesn't say a word. Instead, his gaze is slowly traveling over my body - starting at my shoes.

I snicker as his eyes linger for a while on my ass, which is concealed by the white, Navy officer's shirt that falls down to the middle of my thighs. When a transient wrinkle appears between his eyebrows, I can tell he's trying to discern what I'm wearing underneath.

By the time his eyes finally reach my face, I feel as if my whole body has been caressed; it's as though his lustful gaze has somehow managed to take on a corporeal form and reached out to touch me.

**({'})** _Eye fucking. Yeah… you're doin' it right, Edward._

While his arm remains lazily bent over the back of the chair, he moves his other hand up to drum his fingers slowly against his muscular abs. The movement of his hand draws my own gaze downwards to regard the swell that is already straining against the elastic waistband of his tight underwear. It leaves little to the imagination.

**({'})** _Yup._ _I'd say he's more than ready. _

**({'})** _Yummy._

The devilish smirk playing about his lips brings out the small dimple next to the corner of his mouth. That dimple calls to me; I want to kiss it; lick it.

He parts his thighs, and then his hand, with its long, talented fingers, glides down to palm his erection over the top of the soft fabric of his boxers.

His broad shoulders are well defined. His equally muscular arms flex and bulge as his hand moves. His lower abdomen, lightly dusted with a thin happy-trail of golden-brown hair, clenches and then relaxes as he releases a soft moan.

In this moment, he's beyond sexy, beyond handsome, beyond beautiful, beyond words, and the position of his tempting body is an open invitation to climb aboard.

In response, my breath catches and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the desire already humming beneath the surface of my own underwear.

I turn away, and staring down at my laptop screen, I decide to get things underway.

Deep breath.

**({'})** _You can do this. Break a leg, Bella._

I tap the space bar on the keyboard, and the first strains of the synthesizer start to play. With feigned confidence, I walk towards the wall mirror and place my hands at shoulder height on either side of it, and I wait until Brody Dalle's voice cries out…

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

When the drum beat starts, I swing my hips from side to side with the rhythm.

_**Ahh ooohhh!**_

The guitar riff kicks in. Using the wall for support, I lower my hips in a serpentine-like manner as I seductively drop my ass down towards the floor. I look beyond my own reflection in the mirror to gaze at Edward; my inspiration - my muse.

_**Ahhhhh ohh!**_

As I make my way up again, Edward's reflection stares back at me, unblinking and slack-jawed. His hand is now resting over the approximate position of his heart.

The lyrics begin, and I spin my body around to lean back against the mirror. Starting at my thighs, I begin to move my hands. I sensually stroke my skin, trail my fingers up and over the apex of my legs, and claw at my lower abdomen and waist.

_**I don't want another man  
>I cry myself to sleep at night<strong>_

As I glide my fingers over my breasts, heading towards my neck, I imagine my hands are actually Edward's, all while maintaining eye contact with the man himself.

_**Thinkin' of your love in me  
>Oh baby please come back and be…<strong>_

Knowing the chorus is about to start, I give him a wink and a salute before grabbing the brim of the hat and carelessly flinging it aside.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, love you,  
>Oh, no other daddy can tell me what to do<strong>_

I strut seductively toward Edward to occupy the triangular dance space created between his parted thighs. Edward coughs and utters a, "_Holy shit_." He then starts chuckling at the lyrics which makes me smirk down at him as I tower over his slouched form in five-inch high heels.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy  
>Please me, Daddy<br>Be my daddy, please!**_

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

Gripping onto both sides of the shirt at the collar, I pull hard, yanking the shirt apart and popping all the buttons in the process. One or two buttons fly off, landing God only knows where.

Oops.

Well… I guess it's a good thing I always pack an emergency sewing kit.

_**I love you madly**_

As the shirt falls from my shoulders down to my forearms, Edward stares up at me in awe. His mouth is hanging open, and his eyebrows have relocated somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline.

_**... sex bomb.**_

_**I don't want another man  
>Sleepin' in my room at night<strong>_

Lifting my right leg, I rest the toe of my stiletto-clad foot on his lower abdomen. As I grind my shoe against his skin, as though I'm extinguishing a cigarette underfoot, my heel gently nudges the side of his very hard cock, causing him to release a long shuddering breath.

"Oh…, fuck me," he utters hoarsely, and then he bites down on his lower lip.

_**Don't want his dirty fingers  
>Up inside my tights<strong>_

With my slutty super heroine outfit revealed, he surveys me from top to bottom as I sway my hips side to side and remove the white shirt from my arms. His fingers reach out towards the words written across the top of my left thigh – _American Dream._

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, love you  
>Oh, no other daddy can tell me what to do<strong>_

Before his hand can make contact with my thigh, I playfully smack his fingers and toss the shirt at him. It lands on his head.

Laughing, he quickly pulls the shirt away from his face and throws it to the side. The shirt lands halfway on the bed, with a sleeve draping down to the floor.

Hooking my thumbs into the waistband, I begin to tease my boy-shorts down my hips, barely revealing the top of the black and gold mini V-string panties to his gaze. Then, I quickly pull my shorts up again.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, **_

_**Please me, Daddy  
>Be my daddy, please!<strong>_

He's pouting now.

Yeah, I'm so damn mean.

While standing between his thighs, I spin around, and with my legs clasped together, I bend from the hips so my ass is at his eye-level. And then I slap both hands on my ass cheeks - Hard.

"Oh, please…" he begs. I smirk, but when I feel his hands brush lightly against the back of my thighs, I have to stifle a whimper.

Reaching down, I take a hold of Edward's hands and encourage him to put them on my hips. Inserting his fingers under the waistband of my boy-shorts, he begins to pull on the elastic.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, love you  
>Oh, no other daddy can tell me what to do<br>Oh, won't you be my daddy, **_

_**Please me, Daddy  
>Be my daddy, please!<strong>_

Edward sits forward to pull my shorts down hurriedly, and I can feel his warm breath tickling the exposed skin of my lower back. Due to the erotic sensation, my eyes unconsciously roll and flutter to a close. Edward's tantalizing fingers then slide along the length of my legs, dragging my shorts down with them.

God, I love the feeling of his hands on my body.

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

_**Ah Oh,  
>Ah Oh,<br>Ah Oh,  
>Ahh, Ahh, Oh<br>**_

_**Ah Oh,  
>Ah Oh,<br>Ah Oh,  
>Ahh, Ahh, Oh…<strong>_

As I bend down further to step out of the shorts, I half expect Edward to spank me playfully on the ass. Instead, his fingers brush over the satiny scrap of material barely covering my pussy, and he bestows a long, languid lick along the extent of my right sacral crease. His mouth is tempting, teasing, and tasting one of my most intoxicating erogenous zones - the place where my ass meets the back of my thigh.

I almost pitch forward as a lightning bolt of pure lust rips through my body, causing me to moan. I can feel the exact second he grins cockily against my skin, because his tongue momentarily breaks contact, and he snickers.

_**Ah Oh,  
>Ah Oh,<br>Ah Oh,  
>Ahh, Ahh, Oh<br>**_

_**Ah Oh,  
>Ah Oh,<br>Ah Oh,  
>Ahh, Ahh, Oh…<strong>_

Reluctantly, I distance myself from his talented tongue and dance my way towards the bed. I quietly chuckle when I hear his small growl of frustration behind me.

On hands and knees, I crawl to the center of the bed.

_**Come home and do it right  
>I'm yours tonight<br>Come home and do it right  
>I'm yours tonight<strong>_

Turning to face him, I kneel upright upon the bed with my thighs parted. Reaching back, I release the octopus clip that is holding my hair up. I shake my head and my hair quickly cascades down my back and falls either side of my neck.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, love you  
>Oh, no other daddy can tell me what to do<strong>_

I slowly roll my neck in circles and move my hands over my body. This time I start from the back of my neck and work my way down. I roughly squeeze the sides of my breasts and release a sigh before heading down to caress the skin over my hips.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy,**_

_**Please me, Daddy  
>Be my Daddy, please!<strong>_

Throwing my head back, I finish my self-exploration by inserting my middle and ring fingers underneath the satiny material of my V-string, and I start to move my hand in a suggestive circular motion.

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

**({'}) **_You're killing him! I think Edward has actually stopped breathing._

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, love you  
>Oh, no other daddy can tell me what to do<strong>_

With my fingers still covering my clit, I drop down to the mattress. Moving my hips up and down, and then in small, tight circles, I press against my own hand. Already, I'm feeling so warm and wet.

Although my forehead is buried into the soft, chocolate and cream colored comforter, I can hear Edward swearing up a storm.

_**Oh, won't you be my daddy, **_

_**Please me, Daddy  
>Be my daddy, please!<strong>_

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

_**I love you madly - Sex bomb  
>I love you madly - Sex bomb<strong>_

_**A one, two, three, four…**_

I have a feeling the song is coming to an end soon, so I remove my fingers from my panties and quickly roll to the side of the bed.

Lowering my legs to the floor and seating myself right on the edge of the bed, I grind my ass in a circular motion against the comforter. I straighten one leg, and using large strokes, I run my palms from ankle to thigh, as though I'm liberally applying body lotion, then I run my fingers along the length of my inner thighs, until they reach my knees. Using my thumbs, I part my legs - wide.

I wonder if Edward can see how turned on I am?

_**I love you madly - Sex bomb  
>I love you madly - Sex bomb<strong>_

Crossing my arms about my waist, I grasp the bottom hem of my tight cami top and shimmy it up my body and over my head. Then twirling the garment above my head a few times, as though it's a lasso, I take aim and throw my top at Edward's head again. This time, it misses and lands on his chest instead.

_**A one, two, three, four…  
><strong>_**  
><strong>_**I love you madly - Sex bomb  
>I love you madly - Sex bomb<strong>_

The song finally fades, and then I collapse back onto the bed and giggle.

"Wow," Edward says, appearing dazed.

I raise my head to look at him better. "You like?" I ask, raising a questioning eyebrow.

He's grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Like? Hell… I fucking loved it! Keep going." His hands are gesticulating urgently. "More! Don't stop now. You still owe me a lap dance, remember?"

I laugh at his enthusiasm. "Just gimme a second to catch my breath, and then I'll start the next song."

"Okay, but while you're resting… can you roll over?"

"Why?"

"I need to see the back of those knickers again, 'cause… _damn!_"

Drunk on feminine sexual power, I giggle again and drop my head back to the mattress.

After a few deep breaths, I get up off the bed and head towards my laptop. As I pass in front of him, he reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks. Placing his hands on my hips, he turns my body around.

"Bloody hell!" he mutters under his breath, and I peer down, over my shoulder to look at him. "Where did you get this sinful little get up?" he asks, his hooded eyes not leaving my ass. He slides a finger up and down, beneath the black piece of dental floss that's trying to pass itself off as the back of my panties.

I used to hate wearing G-strings or V-strings, but these days I happily endure them because I love it when he looks at me just like this – as if I'm the most desirable woman in the world.

**({'})** _Besides, they never stay on for very long anyway once he sees you're wearing one._

True.

Playfully, I smack his hand away and continue towards the laptop. "If you must know, Mister Handsy, my mother sent it as a birthday gift." I cue up the next song in iTunes.

"Tell her, '_Thank you_,' from me, but you might want to mention my birthday isn't for another six months," he says jokingly. "Actually, never mind… I'll thank her profusely when we get to her place later today. Just remind me to buy her some pink roses on the way."

I snicker and then shake my head at his ridiculousness before tapping the space bar to start the music.

"Hands behind your head, and hold onto the back of the chair," I tell him. "And scoot down in the seat a little bit."

The drum beat starts, and as I walk towards him, he complies.

Edward curiously side-eyes the laptop. I can almost see the cogs of his mind at work. His expression tells me that he knows of the song, but can't exactly remember what it's called or who it's by.

When the deep, dissonant bass chords start to play, I begin to sway my hips. A look of recognition crosses his face, and by the fifth bass chord, he's smiling up at me.

"Radiohead?" he asks as I bend forward to place my hands on his knees. I nod twice and pull his knees apart. Using my hands, I sensuously run my palms over his upper thighs.

_**I'm the next act**_

Moving my hands to hold onto the armrests of the chair, I step as close as I can to Edward's body, so my bra-clad breasts are right in front of his forehead.

_**Waitin' in the wings**_

I lock my elbows and bend my left knee. With all my weight on my arms and right leg, I slowly and carefully drag the front of my body down and along the extent of Edward's body.

_**I'm an animal**_

He breathes in deeply and moans into my cleavage. His nose then trails over my collarbone.

_**Trapped in your hot car**_

"Fuuuuck," he murmurs, into the side of my neck, and he bucks his hips forward, begging for more contact. "That was so hot."

_**I am all the days**_

Kneeling on the floor, I arch back slightly and place my hands on his knees again. I begin to massage his thighs slowly, using long, languid strokes. Edward's eyes begin to close.

_**That you choose to ignore**_

"Watch me, Edward," I whisper, and his eyes slowly reopen and focus. I smirk at him and raise an eyebrow.

In response, he smiles lazily. "Couldn't help it, feels so damn good." He then breathes shakily.

_**You are all I need**_

With my hands on his knees for balance, I smoothly rock back onto my heels to move to a standing position. As I raise myself up to my full height, I slowly run my hands along my own thighs.

_**You're all I need**_

I sway my hips and run my fingers through the sides of my hair, before leaning forward to grip the back of the chair.

_**I'm in the middle of your picture  
><strong>_

First lifting my left knee and then my right, I kneel on the seat of the chair, straddling both of Edward's thighs.

_**Lyin' in the reeds**_

Due to the sides of the chair limiting my space, I quickly discover I can't spread my knees far enough apart to perform a double-leg grind. Unless I can get lower, neither one of us will get any friction where we want it the most. So making the most of the position I'm in, I straighten my hips so my pussy is right in front of his face, and I begin to touch myself.

_**I am a moth**_

As one hand slides up my body to squeeze my breasts, the other reaches down to stroke back and forth over my panties. I arch my back and roll my neck as my body writhes before him.

_**Who just wants to share your light**_

Reaching for the back of the chair again, so my navel is directly in front of Edward's face, I lock my elbows and straighten my back. Keeping my left knee on the chair, I bring my right leg into the center to perform a split-leg grind. I'm now straddling his right thigh with my right hip bone in direct contact with his cock.

_**I'm just an insect**_

Rolling my hips, I'm essentially dry-humping his thigh. He groans into the side of my neck as my hip bone repeatedly rubs against his erection. I feel his hands grab a hold of my hips. He pulls me to himself and thrusts his hips forward, creating even more friction.

_**Tryin' to get out of the night**_

"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?" I tease. "Hands back on the chair."

He obeys, and I spread his legs apart again as I move back to a standing position. He pouts, but it's short-lived because as I'm swaying with the music, I'm slowly turning around and running my hands seductively over my ass.

_**I only stick with you**_

I step back, and while swaying my hips sinuously, I gradually lower my ass down to rest against his abs.

_**Because there are no others**_

Holding onto the arms of the chair for stability, I start to move my ass in a figure-eight pattern, grinding over his abs, circling down and over his cock, and then up again heading towards his sternum.

_**You are all I need**_

On the third pass over his groin, Edward lets out a long, throaty moan.

_**You're all I need**_

Edward's hands are suddenly holding onto my waist again, and he insistently moves my hips so I'm situated right where he wants me - directly over his long, hard cock.

_**I'm in the middle of your picture**_

I rock my pussy back and forth over his length. He hisses in pleasure as he pulls my hips down while thrusting up against me.

_**Lyin' in the reeds**_

The harsh notes from a piano fill the room along with the sound of our moans.

The dance is forgotten.

Edward unclasps my bra and pulls it down along my arms. His arms are wrapped around me, and he's kissing the back of my neck. His left hand is gripping onto my right hip, guiding my movements, while his other hand is kneading my breasts.

We are lost in each other; purely lost in the sensation as we grind our bodies against one another.

As the music builds to a crescendo of clashing cymbals, discordant piano notes, and Thom Yorke's anguished voice, I hear Edward rasp in my ear, "Fuck, baby… I need you right now."

Nodding frantically, I begin to stand up, but Edward quickly moves my panties to the side and starts moving his fingers in small circles over my clit before pushing two fingers inside of me. He pumps them in an out, gathering more of my arousal.

Over the sound of my own moan, I hear him say, "So fucking wet. I wanna be inside you… so much." Removing his fingers, he unexpectedly pulls my hips down.

_**It's all wrong, it's all right**_

It's then that I feel the tip of his cock positioned at my entrance, and instantly I freeze.

My hands are gripping the sides of the chair, and my elbows are locked. I'm holding my weight through my arms, halting my descent.

**It's all wrong, it's all right**

"Baby, please. Let me feel you like this," he begs. His fingers are back to circling around my clit and he's gliding the tip of his cock up and down, saturating the head with the rush of my desire.

**It's all wrong, it's all right**

"Condom?" I gasp, to remind him that we're mere millimeters away from going bareback for the first time.

**It's all wrong, it's all right**

"I trust you. Do you trust me?" he asks. "Io sono tuo, Bella. Per sempre."

My arms begin to tremble.

**It's all wrong, it's all right.**

The music ends, and apart from our heavy breaths, the room is quiet.

However, inside of me, a deafening war is raging.

After Eric's betrayal - in the worst possible way - I had promised myself that I would never again go without proper protection until I was married.

My head is shouting at me, telling me to stand up. It's demanding that I get up, walk around to Edward's side of the bed, and open the bedside table drawer to get a condom.

_Trust no one. That way, you'll always be safe._

My heart is telling me exactly what I want to hear.

_Edward loves you, and only you. He'd never betray you the way Eric did._

**({'})**_ Never uses... rawrrrrr... arrggggh... condom… grrrr… for oral… grrrrr… dumbass hypocrite... arrggggh... bitch._

Libby is just making unintelligible growling noises, but I get the feeling that if it were possible, she'd gladly rip my head off, set it on fire, and then flush it down the toilet.

Sensing my hesitation, Edward makes the decision for both of us.

He removes his fingers from inside my panties, gently strokes the sides of my thighs, and then coaxes me to stand. Silently, he's telling me to get a condom.

I turn to look at him. "Don't move from this chair, alright? I'll be right back."

He smiles and nods while pulling his boxer briefs all the way down. "Hurry back, beautiful."

On shaky legs, I totter around to the other side of the bed, and on opening the bedside drawer, I pull out a condom.

It's as I'm walking past the dresser, while checking the expiry date on the foil packet (because you never can be too sure) that I step on one of Edward's discarded shoes with my killer five-inch high heels.

My ankle rolls awkwardly and painfully.

The last thing I hear, before the side of my head hits the sharp corner of the glass-topped dresser, is Edward yelling my name in fear, and Libby calling me a, '_Stupid dumbass cockblocking bitch_.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Translations:**

**_**_cara_ **mia_ = My dear.**  
><strong><em>Io sono tuo, Bella. Per sempre<em> = I'm yours, Bella. Forever.**

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, Libby?<strong>

**({'})** _What the fuck is it this time?_

**Well, that's a nice greeting. What's got your panties in a bunch?**

**({'})** _I'm expecting, Aunt Flo. What's your excuse?_

**Never mind.**

**({'})** _Fine_.

**Fine!**

**({'})** _Whatever_…

**Yup**.

.

.

.

.

**You want some chocolate?**

**({'})** _Yeah, sure…_

**Here you go then.**

.

.

(Two packets of Tim Tams later…)

.

**({'})** _Okay, so what were you going to tell me?_

**I was just going to mention that one of the lovely readers nominated your story for a Giggle/Snort Award in the "All Human Category" and ****voting takes place between the 25th June and the 10th July 2012.**

**({'})** _Giggle? Snort? You mean to say that people actually find this story funny?_

**Well, yeah… apparently.**

**({'})** _You mean to say people are laughing at my misfortunes… __laughing** at **me?_

***crosses fingers behind back* **

**With you. They're laughing **_**with**_** you… not… **_**at**_** you.**

**({'})**_ I suppose this is another one of those popularity contests with no actual prizes._

**Yeah…**

**({'})** _Don't expect me to get all excited about it. Not after what happened last time. I still have fucking clitter in my hair._

**Wouldn't dream of it.**

**({'})** _So where is this voting site then?_

**Here is the link for the nominees. The link for voting is at the bottom of the page. **(http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Giggle-snort

**({'})** I won't be holding my breath. Just look at the nominees…

**Yeah, I know. Maybe we should just stay at home with a tub of chocolate ice cream?**

**({'})** _Good call. Or better yet… we could go to the cinema and watch that "Magic Mike" movie which opened today in the U.S! _

**But it doesn't come out for another month here in Australia. *pout***

**({'})** _Sucks to be you then._

**({'}) **_Later, bitch._

***sigh* **

_Disclaimer: The views expressed by the pre-menstrual vajayjay are not necessarily those of the author. Definitely not._


	139. Chapter 139

My eyelids flutter open, and all I can see is a bright, white light.

Squinting my eyes into slits, and shielding them from the blinding glare with my hand, I groan.

"So, this is it? I'm dead?"

I hear the sound of Libby's derisive laughter.

**({'})** _Not even close, girlfriend._

You mean to say this isn't Heaven?"

**({'})** _I'm afraid not._

The light begins to swing back and forth across my face, and I realize I have a flashlight shining right in front of my eyes.

"Get that freakin' thing away from me," I snarl, and I start flailing my arm about. Thankfully, the light moves away and a pair of hands reach out to calm me down.

**({'})** _Welcome back… bitch._

Blinking profusely, my vision focuses, and it's then that I get visual confirmation. Standing there, appearing larger than life, is the phantasmagoric embodiment of my vagina, and she's dressed in teal colored surgical scrubs.

"Shit…, not you again!"

**({'})** _Nice to see you, too, Bella_

"Really, we should stop meeting like this." I silently wonder if I should start seeing a Psychiatrist, Psychologist, or maybe an Exorcist.

Taking a stethoscope from around her neck and putting the ear tips in her ears, Libby begins to move the chest piece back and forth over my ribs.

After enduring about a minute of silence as a bewildered Libby tries to listen to my heart on the wrong side of my chest, I grab the end of the stethoscope from her fingers, and I bring it close to my mouth.

"What in the fuck am I doing here?" I shout into the chest piece. Libby winces due to the amplified volume and hastily rips the ear tips out of her ears.

**({'})** _Ouch! Was that really necessary?_

"Answer me!"

**({'})** _Hey! Don't blame me. This is all on you!_

"What do you mean?"

**({'})** _You're in the hospital, and you've got some totally wicked drugs coursing through your veins right now._

She gives me the two-thumbs-up signal.

"Hospital?"

**({'})** _Yeah… and you're on some reeeeally good shit this time. I believe they called them Fentanyl, Lorazepam and Entonox. _

"I see."

**({'})** Aaaaanyway, I thought I'd take this opportunity to stage an intervention. I love you, Bella, but I have something I need to get off my chest."

"Like what?"

**({'})** _Like the fact you wouldn't go bareback with Edward. If you'd just sunk the salami when you had the opportunity without bothering with a condom, you wouldn't be here. You'd be thoroughly exhausted and spooning with him right about now, and I'd be feeling a whole lot better._

I sigh.

"For a start, we can't go without a condom because, unlike _some_ people, I'm not willing to get pregnant before marriage. And you know I can't use any form of hormone contraceptive."

It's true, unfortunately. You name it, I tried it, and I lived to suffer through the side effects. The combined pill would make me constantly nauseous and gave me headaches. My Gyno then suggested I try the mini-pill, the shot or the implant. I chose the implant as it didn't require me to remember to take a pill every day, and it could be removed if there were any side effects.

Oh, the horrendous side effects…

The implant, as it turned out, was the worst. I gained sixteen pounds, lost my sex-drive, and had frequent breakthrough bleeding. But the scariest side effect of all was when my hair started to fall out in clumps.

Vin Diesel, Chris Daughtry, Patrick Stewart, and The Rock can go bald and get away with it. Britney Spears, Cameron Diaz, and me – not so much.

Having the implant removed after seven months of pure hell was the best decision I ever made. In the end, my Gyno just concluded that contraceptive hormones don't play nicely with my body, and he fitted me for a diaphragm.

The diaphragm, while effective against unwanted pregnancy, made my sex life even less spontaneous, and it contributed to urinary tract infections. It was not long after my third UTI, after using the diaphragm for a year (albeit infrequently) that Eric and I broke up anyway.

Stupidly, I had endured it all, simply because Eric refused to wear condoms.

My diaphragm has been sitting unused in its protective plastic case inside my bathroom cabinet for over two years. I doubt I'd trust its effectiveness; particularly, as I've lost over ten pounds in weight during that time.

**({'})** _You know Aunt Flo is expected in the next few days. There's no way you could have gotten pregnant. Face facts – you don't trust Edward!_

"I'm trying, okay. Look, I'm honestly trying to give him my trust, but I'm scared."

**({'})** _Why?_

"Because I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop; I keep waiting for the day Edward realizes I'm not enough for him, and he moves on to someone else."

**({'})** _You don't really think that's going to happen, do you?_

"Well, anything is possible. Look at Eric. Things went well in the beginning. We were engaged, and then look what happened… And seriously, Libby, do you honestly want to go through all of those embarrassing tests again? The Chlamydia screening was particularly unpleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

Libby winces at the memory and crosses her own legs.

"Up until now, Edward has been perfectly happy to use condoms. He knows how I feel about the subject of protection. I think he just got caught up in the moment," I conclude.

**({'})** _But what if it happens again?_

I shrug. "He'll just have to continue to be understanding; I suppose. I refuse to go through what I did when I was with Eric. I'm not going to compromise my own needs."

**({'})** _Okay, so you're adamant you won't go bareback until after you're married and ready for kids. So the answer is simple – marry Edward._ _Preferably as soon as possible._

"Um… There's just one small problem with that plan," I remind her.

**({'})** _What's that?_

"Edward hasn't asked me to marry him."

**({'})** Yeah, so?

"So…" I give Libby the '_duh_' face. It should be patently obvious that I need to wait for his proposal.

**({'})** _Just ask him to marry you._

"Are you insane? I'm not going to ask Edward to marry me!"

**({'})** _Why not?_

"Because… because… I'm meant to be the proposee, not the proposer."

**({'})** _Rubbish. This is the modern age, Bella. Women can propose marriage to men, you know…_

"Well excuse me for being old-fashioned, but I think I'd like to be the one being proposed to. That way, I'll know Edward's ready for marriage. I'd feel so embarrassed and rejected if I were the one to propose, and he said, 'No.'"

**({'})** _Aha – but this is where I have come up with a cunning plan._

"A cunning plan?"

**({'}) **_Exactly. I have a foolproof way to ensure Edward will say, 'Yes'. In fact, he'll be unable to say, 'No.' _

"Oh, really? And what is this cunning plan?"

**({'})** _Just invoke the 'undeniable request'. Ahem… and I quote… 'I will do anything that is physically within my ability to do. Name it, and I will do it, but only if you win...' _

"No!"

**({'}) **_But-_

"I said, no!"

**({'})** _Bella, those were Edward's own words, verbatim, so if you ask him to marry you, he can't refuse._

"The undeniable request was meant as a joke; a game. I won't bribe or force Edward into marrying me with something as stupid as a wager. It's not that simple, and as I said-"

Suddenly, I can hear my own voice speaking in the distance.

**"_Your abs… yeah, I wanted to lick them_." **

**({'})** Hmm. That's weird. How did you throw your voice like that? Your lips didn't even move.

I shrug. "I dunno. Anyway, as I was saying-"

I'm ready to launch into a rant about how I want to be romanced when I'm proposed to, but suddenly, the voice that sounds like me speaks up again.

**"_Thought it looked as big as a baby's arm_." **

"It must be the drugs. It seems that I'm talking to someone, but I have no idea what I'm talking about."

**({'})** _At a guess, I think you're talking about Edward's cock. In particular, the time Edward came to the waterbabes class wearing those tight, black swim shorts._

We both sigh dreamily at the memory until my disembodied voice speaks again.

**"_Eric… Ewan McGregor… You…_"**

"WHAT_?_" I shriek in disbelief as I awkwardly launch myself off the side of the bed. For some reason, my right arm isn't doing anything useful. "No fucking way!"

**({'})** _What's going on? What are you talking about?_

"No, no, no, no. NO! Wake up!" I demand, and I slap myself on the cheek.

**"_Because I secretly like that Ewan sings and drops his trousers to get his lightsaber out in just about every movie he's in."_**

**({'}) **_Me too!_

"Shut up! Stop talking. Please, stop talking." I place my hand over my mouth, but it doesn't make any difference.

**_"And I loooooove his Scottish accent."_**

"Help me, Libby!" I cry. "I'm playing Kill/ Fuck/ Marry with Edward and giving him the uncensored answers."

**({'}) **_Oh, shit!_

Libby grabs me by the shoulders and begins to shake me.

**({'}) **_Wake up! You're blabbing our innermost secrets to Edward. Wake up, now!_

**"_I really like your cock. I call it El Capitán. That's Español for 'The Captain,' you know_,"** my voice says in a stage-whisper. There is a pause before it continues, **"_Well that's what I call it… what is its real name then?_"**

For a beat, I stop to listen for the answer, but I can't hear anything.

"What's he saying?"

**({'}) **_Shhhhhhh!__ Shut the fuck up! I can't hear anything over your foghorn voice._

Hysterical laughter rings in the air. **"_Of course, of course… I promise I won't tell anyone._"**

"Well, what did he say?" I ask, turning to look at Libby. She shrugs.

Damn.

**"_Oh, you want to know what mine is called? My VAAAAH-JAY-JAY is called-_" **

"Dear God," I whimper.

**({'}) **_Please, shut the hell up!_

**"_What was that? Oh, okay – can you please hold my other hand? Don't leave me, Edward_."**

Libby and I look around, confused.

"What's happening, Libby?" I ask fearfully.

**({'}) **_I have no idea._

-oo0oo-

**_Saturday, 22nd December - 2:30am - St. Vincent's Hospital_.**

Suddenly, I feel a searing pain ripping through my right shoulder, and my eyes open wide in shock.

"HOLY MOTHER OF FUCKING SHIT!" I gasp loudly, before scrunching my eyes shut again.

My breaths are hard and rapid as they escape my mouth through pursed lips and gritted teeth.

I open my eyes again and realize I have a plastic mouthpiece in front of my lips, and I greedily suck the nitrous oxide gas into my lungs, as though my very existence depends on it. The gas starts to make me feel dizzy, claustrophobic, and sick, but it dulls the pain just a little.

"Shh-shh-shhhh. It's all over. You were so brave, and you did really well," Edward says soothingly next to my left ear before gently kissing me on the temple.

"Okay it's in," I hear an unfamiliar male voice say, and I notice a handsome grey-haired doctor standing on my right, addressing a young female nurse. His name tag proclaims him to be Orthopedic Surgeon - Associate Professor F. Sance.

"I want you to perform neurovascular obs on the right arm for the next two hours at fifteen minutely intervals, and put the arm in a sling for her comfort. I'll put through a request to Radiology for some post-reduction x-rays to check for any missed fractures. I'd also like you to recheck her neurological status, and once you are happy her GCS is okay, Isabella can have some more analgesia if she needs it."

The doctor then gently extracts the mouthpiece from my death-grip and places the trippy gas out of reach.

Bastard!

It's probably for the best, because right now I feel as if I'm going to...

"Vomit," I manage to choke out, and the nurse, with lightning-like reflexes, manages to position a disposable plastic barf bag in front of me, just in time, and then I bring up everything I've eaten over the last week.

Mercifully, the nurse hands me a cup of water, so I can rinse my mouth, and she disposes the foul-smelling barf bag into a yellow hazardous waste bin. Exhausted, I feel tears leak from my eyes, and they travel down to my chin. A tired and emotional sob rips from my throat.

Edward softly brushes the tears away with his fingertips and wipes my nose and mouth with a Kleenex.

"What about the right ankle and the scalp lac?" the nurse asks. "Should I page the Plastics Registrar on-call?"

The gray-haired doctor, who I decide looks a bit like George Clooney, moves closer and runs his gloved fingers just above my hair line. "No… I wouldn't bother them with this. It's a small, clean cut, and the edges are easily approximated. In fact, I would be inclined to skip the sutures and just glue it together with some Histoacryl.

"As for the ankle, the first x-ray panel came back negative for any fractures, so it's just a sprain. There's some bruising developing, so keep the foot elevated on a pillow and apply a fresh ice pack. Once she's ready to leave, apply a compression bandage and arrange a hire crutch."

"Sure thing, Prof," the nurse replies.

The doctor pats me reassuringly on my knee before saying, "I'll leave you in Adele's capable hands, but I'll be back to check on you before you leave. He then exits the sterile-looking cubical through a pair of peach-colored privacy curtains.

Adele then proceeds to ask me a barrage of questions concerning my ability to move my hand and to distinguish between sharp and dull sensations along the extent of my arm.

-oo0oo-

_**5.30am.**_

After three hours of being questioned, poked, prodded, iced, glued, scanned, wrapped, and medicated, Adele and Doctor Sance tell me that I'm free to leave the Emergency Department. They exit the cubicle, so I can get myself ready.

Only there's one small problem.

We came to the hospital in an ambulance, and I have no idea how we're going to get back to the hotel.

I'm barefooted, wearing a black and gold mini v-string and a starched, white, backless hospital gown.

Edward is holding onto my killer high heels and my iPhone.

Unfortunately, Edward didn't think to bring along any other clothes or money. He had apparently been too afraid to move me due to my dislocated shoulder, and had been holding a facecloth to my head to control the bleeding until the ambulance arrived.

He said he'd barely had time to pull on a pair of pants, and find my insurance details in my suitcase, before the paramedics wheeled me out of the hotel room on a trolley, heading for the elevator.

Edward is wearing the white Navy officer's pants and nothing else; not even underwear or shoes.

Just as I'm about to ask Edward how we are going to get out of here, I hear a familiar female voice.

"Frank! How wonderful to see you!" It's my mother. Edward must have called her.

"Well, if it isn't the lovely Ms. Renee Higginbotham! What are you doing here?" the doctor replies in a voice that makes their reunion seem mutually joyous.

"I got a phone call about two hours ago to say my daughter was here. She was bought in by ambulance, and her boyfriend phoned to say they needed a ride. Phil and I rushed here as soon as we could manage."

"A ride? Surely, you're not back on the bike already?" he asks concerned.

Huh?

"Oh, no… not likely," she scoffs softly, "Phil drove us here in the van. Sadly, my beloved bike is still under a tarp in the garage. I'm waiting until my compensation and insurance money comes through, and then I'll fix her up. The court case starts after the new year."

Compensation… and a court case? What court case? My mom never told me anything about a court case. And what happened to the bike?

"How's the pelvis going, by the way? Will we be seeing you back at the dance studio soon? We've been learning the Foxtrot, but the classes aren't as fun without you there to help out."

Her pelvis? What the hell? It sounds as though she was in an accident of some kind.

"Oh… aren't you a darling, but I'll pretend I didn't just hear you say that, because Phil will get mad at you." They both laugh. "I'll have to ask Brad at my next physio appointment when he thinks I'll be up to doing the jive again."

"So, you said your daughter was here... Tell me her name, and I'll show you to her cubicle."

"Isabella Swan."

"Really?" he replies. "She's just behind this curtain."

The curtain is partially drawn back, and for the first time in five years, I see my mom's face close up.

Mom is the sort of person who would rather be behind the camera than in front of it, which means photos have been few and far between. The last photo she sent me was two years ago, and it was a group shot taken during a work function. Although her hair is cut shorter than I've ever seen on her before, and there are one or two new character lines, she hardly seems to have changed.

"Baby," Mom gushes effusively, and then she moves forward to greet me. She has a metal walking stick in one hand.

"Hey, Mom," I reply, rolling my eyes as she kisses me several times on the cheeks before addressing Edward.

"And you must be Edward," Mom says, giving him a kiss on the cheek and pulling him into a firm hug. Looking at me around Edward's bicep, she whispers, "_Wow, he's a hottie,_" before giving me a wink and the thumbs up signal.

"It's nice to meet you Ms. Higginbotham," Edward says, as they end the hug. He's blushing slightly; probably because he's going commando and shirtless and my mom just hugged the shit out of him, but most likely it's because he caught the gist of what my Mom just said to me.

"Psssht. Don't be so formal. Just call me Renee or Ren. So, are you okay, kiddo? What exactly happened?" she asks, looking me over.

"I… uh- I fell. I accidentally stepped on Edward's shoe in heels and rolled my ankle. On the way down, I bumped my head and dislocated my shoulder."

"I swear, Bella Swan; you could trip over thin air."

"That's not true… anymore. Anyway, what happened to you?" I ask accusingly, indicating to her walking stick with my good arm. "You had an accident and neglected to tell me? When?"

Mom sighs. "It was back at the beginning of September. It was a hit-and-run accident. Some drunk asshole in an Audi went through a red light, clipped the front end of the bike, and sped off. I was in this very hospital for six weeks with a fractured right Acetabulum, some cracked ribs, and bruising. My leathers and helmet saved me."

"Mom, why didn't you tell me? And at your age, aren't you a little too old to be riding a motorcycle?"

Edward raises his eyebrows in surprise. Clearly, I forgot to mention to Edward that my mom is a juvenile trapped in the body of a fifty-year-old woman.

"Pshht! I'm not old! And honestly, I didn't want to bother you. There's not much you could have done all the way on the other side of the planet except worry unnecessarily, and I was fine, really. I had lots of friends around to assist me during my recovery. Trust me, I'll be dancing before you know it," she says, looking towards the doctor and smiling. Mom turns to look at me again, and I scowl at her. She gives me a mock-scowl in return, and it makes me chuckle.

"I'll see you later, Renee," the doctor says. "Maybe I can call on you some time and take you out for dinner?"

Mom moves towards the curtain. "Uh… sure, Frank. Just call me," she says offhandedly, and then she reaches up to close the privacy curtain behind him. With an eye roll and an exasperated look, Mom returns to the bedside and drops a plastic shopping bag on one of the seats.

"Mom? Won't Phil be upset?"

She opens the shopping bag and begins to pull out some clothes. "Upset about what?" Taking out a red t-shirt, she tosses it in Edward's direction. "Phil's bigger than me, but it's still going to be small on you. Sorry, Edward, but it's the best we could do at the last minute."

"Mom! You just accepted a date with that doctor."

"Yeah. So?"

"Won't Phil get jealous?" I ask.

Edward holds up the t-shirt in front of him, and I start to snicker. It has a picture of Lady Gaga on the front. In white lettering, it says 'KEEP CALM AND JUST DANCE.' Lady Gaga has a white crown perched at a jaunty angle on her head.

"What a strange thing to say…" Mom replies. "Why would Phil get jealous? Phil and I have many friends in common." From the bag, Mom then pulls out a pretty blue, strapless, shirred cotton summer dress and a brand new strapless bra.

I decide to drop the subject. Clearly, I'm missing something. I focus on trying to get dressed so we can get out of here. Edward helps me to sit on the edge of the bed, to allow Mom to help me with the clothes. It's fortunate I'm the same size as my mom.

When Mom removes the white hospital gown from me, she excitedly exclaims, "I see you're wearing the panties from the Playboy Valkyrie set I sent for your birthday! Oh, Bella, they look fantastic on you. Don't you think they look fantastic on her, Edward?"

There are times when my mom is so inappropriate, but actually, it's one of the things I love most about her. Although Renee is my mom, she has never been much of a mother-figure towards me. To me, she's always been more like a cheeky, rebellious aunt, or a much older sister. She's the female relative I can tell almost anything to, with the knowledge that she won't judge me or try to control my life, unlike a real mom. At least, that's been my observation gleaned from the mother-daughter relationships my friends frequently complain about.

Edward nods; blushes again, and busies himself with trying to get the red t-shirt on. His biceps and chest are testing the limits of the fabric, and it only comes three-quarters down the length of his torso. He's baring his midriff.

"Cute shirt. Does your boyfriend like to parade you around to all the gay bars dressed up like that?" I giggle, and he rolls his eyes at me.

Although they gave me a crutch to use under my uninjured arm, I don't feel safe enough to walk while I still have drugs circulating around my body, so Edward leaves the cubicle to search for a wheelchair.

A few minutes later, he returns appearing quite flustered.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Never mind," he replies, helping me to get situated in the wheelchair.

As we make our way towards the exit, it becomes apparent why Edward had been feeling uncomfortable. A group of scantily clad women in their early twenties, who are obviously drunk or high, wolf-whistle and cat-call to Edward. They must be having a bachelorette evening, as one of them is wearing a flashing tiara that proclaims she's a bride-to-be.

Edward ignores them as we pass them by.

"See," says one of the women, turning to her friends, "I told you that he was probably already taken or gay." The women burst into laughter.

**({'}) **_Buh-bye, whores._

Raising my good arm, I'm about to give them the middle finger over my left shoulder, but Mom beats me to it. Edward just chuckles as he maneuvers the wheelchair through the sliding glass doors.

While we're waiting on the footpath, Mom surveys the roadway, and then shaking her head, she pulls out her cell phone. After a pause, she speaks into the phone.

"Phil? Where are you?

"Yeah, we're waiting outside the Emergency Room...

"Okay. See you soon. Bye." I look up at Mom, and she says, "Phil went to get us breakfast. I hope you're okay with egg and bacon sandwiches and coffee."

Edward enthusiastically nods in response while my stomach just growls in a threatening manner.

"Here we go," Mom says, pointing to a camper van that's passing the hospital, heading towards the main gate.

I blink my eyes several times, and silently begin to wonder how hard I hit my head, because... _seriously?_

Behind me, I can hear Edward chuckling.

Mom looks at me, sighs and then says, "Believe me; I know what you're thinking, but Phil got it for a bargain. It'll get a new paint job… eventually."

The basic color of the van is red, but on the sides, there are four, large, naked female asses. The word 'WICKED' is spray-painted on the front, and I realize this must be an ex-hire Wicked camper van.

The van pulls up next to the footpath, and the driver-side door of the wicked ass-mobile opens. The last person I expect to see steps out.

**({'}) **_Huh? Is there something else your mom forgot to mention?_

"I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting," says a tall, blonde woman, who is wearing shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes. The woman has the body of a dancer and looks to be in her late forties. "I was only around the block, but there was a line of taxi drivers waiting to get their morning coffee, so it took a while longer than I thought." The woman steps onto the footpath and stands before us, her smile beaming brightly and revealing cheek dimples. "Nice shirt," she quips at Edward and then winks, "but I think it looks better on me."

"We only just got out, so we weren't waiting long," Mom says. "Anyway, Phil, I'd like to introduce my daughter, Bella Swan, and her boyfriend, Edward Cullen. Kids, this is Philippa Dwyer, but she prefers to be called Phil, and never call her Pippa unless you want to incur her wrath."

Edward mirrors my bewilderment as he shakes Phil's hand.

Phil then turns to address me, "I'd shake your hand or hug you, but you're obviously injured. How are you? I hear you took a dive."

"Yeah, I dislocated my shoulder, among other things. I'm gonna be in a sling for about a month."

"Well, it's great to meet you, finally. Ren has told me a lot about you over the years," Phil says.

"My mom mentioned you too, but for some reason, I always thought you were a man," I reply.

Mom whips her head around to look at me, confusion crossing her features. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Um… the name _Phil_, I guess. You never mentioned Phil was a woman when you said you were moving in together, so I always figured Phil was your live-in boyfriend."

Mom and Phil both burst out laughing, and Edward starts snickering too.

"Come 'ere and gimme a big sloppy kiss, honeybunny pooky-face," Mom jokes, and then she throws an arm around Phil's shoulder and plants a wet kiss on the side of her face.

"Get away from me, you raving lunatic. Cut that shit out or I'll hit you over the head with your own stick," Phil says, while laughing and pushing Mom's face away. "Keep that behavior up and you'll give the kids the wrong impression about the two of us." They continue laughing and then sigh.

Mom then explains, "Phil is my best friend in the world, and we share the same house, for the moment. We've also just started a new business venture together called 'La Belle Femme.'"

"Speaking of which, we actually need to start heading back. I have to open the store by nine as there are some deliveries coming in, and the Fletcher bride is picking up her special order at ten," Phil says.

We all get into the van. Phil, Edward, and my mom sit in the front while I get situated in the back, so I can rest my legs along the length of the back seat with my foot elevated.

I close my eyes for just a minute.

-oo0oo-

_**Midday… apparently.**_

I feel something soft and satiny brushing across my cheek. It tickles, so I reach up to scratch the tickle away.

Hmmm. There it is again. How fucking annoying!

Lifting my hand, I cover the side of my face.

Grrr. Now it's on my nose, and… wait… it smells floral, so it must be a flower on my face.

Ugh. Please don't tell me that I've managed to fall asleep under a bush somewhere… again.

"It's time to wake up, sleepy," a velvety voice urges.

I do like you mister sexy voice, but no…

"Bella…"

"Noooooo. Juzz-fie-more-mints," I moan drowsily.

Really, I could easily do with five more hours of sleep. Maybe I can just… drift… back to...

Mister sexy voice is chuckling at something, and the tickly thing is on my neck.

I do like the sound of the laugh, but not right now, please and thank you; bye-bye and goodnight.

"Bell! You need to wake up and get out of the van," sexy voice says a little more forcefully.

"Hunhh?" I groan, and on opening my eyes, I feel totally disorientated.

The sun's rays are dappled as they come in through the door, and I look around and realize I'm still in the van. The van seems to be parked beneath a large tree… somewhere.

I notice Edward is no longer wearing the white pants and Lady Gaga t-shirt, and he smells of soap. It seems he's showered and changed. He's wearing a pair of gray cargo shorts, a white, gray, and green plaid shirt, and flip-flops.

"It lives!" Edward jokes as he hands me the single white rose he's been torturing me with.

"Geez. How long have I been asleep?" I yawn and clutch the rose to my chest. The air inside the van is warm despite the gentle breeze blowing through the open doors. The left side of my body is damp with perspiration. "What time is it, and where are we?"

Edward looks at his watch. "We're in Katoomba. It's just gone midday, and it's nearly time for lunch. You've been sleeping for hours. You fell asleep before we even got back to the Shangri La. I didn't have the heart to wake you, so Phil dropped me and your mum off at the hotel, and then drove here. I picked up a hire car, and then your mum helped me to pack our belongings. Then I checked us out of the hotel early."

"Oh, okay." I yawn again loudly, as I attempt to move to a sitting position. "Owwww." Yep. It's all coming back to me now, and it seems those heavenly painkillers have well and truly worn off. My shoulder hurts like hell. "What about our plans for lunch and Christmas shopping? Did you call Senna or one of the others to cancel?"

He nods. "I sent them all a text to tell them not to expect us as we spent most of the night in the emergency room. I told them that you tripped and injured your shoulder without going into the fine details, of course." Edward winks and smiles. "I also rang your dad and Sue. Sue then talked to my Mum, so naturally, everyone in the family now knows. Your phone has a bunch of texts and voice-mail messages, and I've been fielding calls all morning, in between hanging out with Ren in the garage."

"Why were you hanging out in the garage with my mom?"

"She was showing me the damage to her bike, and then we started dismantling it. Your Mum is a seriously cool lady. Did you know she owns a 1955 R67/3 BMW?"

I shrug my one good shoulder.

I know very little about the bike, except that it was given to Mom by her last fiancé, George, about four years ago. Since divorcing my dad, Mom has been engaged three times, but she has never remarried due to cold feet. However, I'd bet good money that if he was alive today, Mom and George would still be together.

George was Mom's one true love – her soul mate. Sadly, they never made it down the aisle. Eighteen months after their engagement, George passed away due to complications following a kidney transplant operation.

It's sad now that I realize Mom hasn't moved on from George as I had once thought… considering Phil's… well… not a man.

Edward continues, "The R67/3 is the rarest postwar BMW motorcycle. Only 700 were produced."

He starts prattling on about 'Earles-forks' and 'sidecar specials' and a bunch of other motorbike jargon I have no concept of. It seems my mom and Edward spent the morning bonding over bike parts while I slept. Thankfully, he stops speaking bike-and-rider when my eyes start to glaze over.

"Anyway," he says, "your mum asked me to wake you because you already missed breakfast, and we're going out for lunch. She figures you might want to freshen up first."

I nod, and Edward turns around and exits the van. I shuffle along after him until my legs are hanging out the door.

"Here, let me help you put these on." Edward bends down to put a pair of flip-flops on my feet, and then he assists me out of the van. Although my ankle is slightly tender, it doesn't hurt too much, so I decide to forego the crutch Edward's holding out for me.

Slowly, we move, with his arm around my waist, and we walk along a brick-paved path towards a charming Californian bungalow style house. The house is stone-fronted in tones of gray and white, with white casement windows, a deep-red iron roof, and a wide veranda. It looks as though the house may have been built in the early part of the last century.

"So what is the rose for?" I ask, noticing the rose bush by the fence. "Does a single white rose have a specific meaning?"

"Not in this situation. But if there'd been fifteen roses on that bush, instead of just eight, I would have picked them all for you."

"Why?" I can't recall what fifteen roses means.

"Because I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got hurt because of me, and I'm sorry for the way I behaved last night. I was out of line, and I want you to know that I won't pressure you like that again." We stop before the front door, and Edward looks at me worriedly.

"I forgive you; not for the first part, because we both know what a clumsy oaf I can be when I've got a bit of alcohol in me," we both chuckle, "but thank you for the apology, and thank you for understanding where I'm coming from."

He nods and then looks at the ground. He still looks shamed, so I reach up with my hand to cup his jaw, and I pull his face down for a kiss before speaking.

"Edward, I do forgive you, and please understand that I do actually want us to have that kind of spontaneity in our relationship - more than anything. But, I need to feel safe, too. Please, just bear with me. I love you, and I do trust you, but I still have scars from the past."

"I understand, and I love you, too." He kisses me again, smiles and then reaches for the door handle.

After entering through a white screen door, we walk the length of the hallway, heading to where I can hear Mom's voice. On either side of the lavender, wall paneled hallway, I get glimpses into the rooms.

Through a pair of glass doors on the left, I see the comfortable living room with its horizontal wall paneling, stained-glass windows, polished floorboards, and floor rug. There is a large leather sofa, a coffee table, and a fireplace with a mantle.

The next door along is closed; however, the door on the opposite side is wide open. The drifting dust motes are visible due to the sunlight streaming into the room through a window topped with stained glass panels. The bedroom is filled with wooden furniture, and the fact the queen-sized bedspread is colored in various shades of purple, makes me think that this is probably my mom's room. Purple has always been her favorite color.

Reaching the end of the hallway, I find my mom sitting in the kitchen on the end of a peach and gray granite bench top. She's talking on the phone, and from the gist of the conversation, it's a work-related call. Edward directs me to sit in the dining room, opposite the long, galley-like kitchen.

Before sitting down, I gaze through one of the five casement windows that make up most of the back wall, and I look at the back yard. Outside there's a wooden deck with bottle-green railing. From the deck, steps lead down to a sloping lawn that backs onto untamed bush land.

Taking a seat at the wooden, rectangular dining table, I notice another closed room next to the back door. It has a vintage picture in a frame on the door, advertising Pears Soap, so I assume it must be the bathroom.

"Thank you so much for rushing the orders to us, and we look forward to getting them on Monday morning," Mom says into the phone. "Okay, thanks, bye."

Mom ends the call and pockets her phone before jumping down from the bench. "Hey, kiddo, how are you feeling?"

"A bit rough actually… and hungry."

"You can wash up in there," Mom says, pointing to the door I correctly assumed was the bathroom. You can take a bath or a shower, and then we'll go out to lunch. I've booked us a table at Mama Rosa's because Edward says he's in the mood for lasagna, and Rosa's is the best."

I stand and head for the bathroom. Edward retrieves a skirt and a button-front blouse from my suitcase and meets me in the bathroom. "Bath or shower?" he asks.

Eyeing the large, deep, burgundy and white enamel tub, I decide a shower will probably be easier.

-oo0oo-

If I thought showering would be easier, I was wrong.

In fact, nothing is easy when you lose the use of your dominant hand. Edward had to help me… a lot, and in many ways, he wasn't helping at all.

So while my hair is still kind of gross, (because I can't wash it properly for 48 hours, due to the glued scalp cut) my boobs are clean.

They are immaculately clean, in fact.

Seriously, Edward's attention to boob detail was commendable; it was just neither the time nor the place for such dedication and distraction, since (a) we were in my mom's house, and (b) we used up all the hot water.

-oo0oo-

Lunch at Mama Rosa's Ristorante has been nothing short of sensational.

Currently, I'm sitting here, feeling stuffed to the gills having had bruschetta, Italian garden salad, San Pellegrino, and the best lasagna I've ever had.

I've consumed so much, that I can barely breathe because my stomach is pressing up under my diaphragm. Mom has even gone so far as to undo the top button of her shorts, and Edward kind of looks as though he wants to do the same. Feeling too full to eat anything else, we decide it might be time to leave.

Mama Rosa approaches, and in a heavy Italian accent, she asks, "Would you like dessert or coffee?"

Edward has been speaking to Rosa in Italian since we've been here, charming the old dear. I decide to speak some Italian, too, so I can show off to Mom._ "_No, grazie. Stiamo per scopare."

Suddenly, Mama Rosa's eyes widen in shock, and then her expression turns to stone. Edward chokes on his San Pellegrino, and before he can say anything, the old woman launches into a tirade, speaking rapidly in Italian and wildly gesticulating with her hands.

** ({'})** _What the fuck did you just say?_

I just wanted to tell the old woman that we didn't want anything more because we're about to burst... I think.

Talk about over reacting! Sheesh!

Edward quickly recovers and replies with, "_Scoppiare_!" And holding up his hands, he gestures for the old dear to calm down.

Mama Rosa seems to calm down as Edward continues to speak to her in Italian. Soon they are both smiling, and the old woman laughs and pats me, somewhat patronizingly, on the cheek. She then walks back to the kitchen, shaking her head in amusement.

I turn to look at Edward, who is also looking at me in amusement.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask.

"You said, 'No, grazie. Stiamo per scopare,'"

I nod. "Yeah. That's, '_No, thank you. We're going to burst_.' Right?"

Edward shakes his head and chuckles. "The word you needed was _scoppiare_, not _scopare_. No, grazie. Stiamo per scoppiare."

"So what did I say then that made the old lady so upset?"

Smirking he replies, "You said, 'No, thank you. We're going to fuck.'"

Oh, God.

I have a sudden urge to slide off my chair and crawl under the tablecloth, so I can hide in mortification.

My mom bursts into laughter. She laughs so hard she snorts which makes Edward laugh even harder.

Why does this shit always happen to me?

-oo0oo-

**_Leura - The Blue Mountains – 2.20pm._**

I gingerly lay down on the queen sized four-poster bed and sigh in contentment. Edward is unpacking our suitcases and hanging our clothes in the large armoire.

The Broomelea Bed and Breakfast spa suite is simply gorgeous. If not for the fact that I'm incapacitated and stuck in this stupid sling, I'd be making much better use of this bed with Edward.

**({'})** _Grrr._

With everything unpacked and put away, Edward crawls up onto the bed, and he gently curls his body around me.

"What do you feel like doing?" he asks against the left side of my neck before kissing it.

I sigh. "Not much." My ankle has swollen up a bit from the small amount of walking we've done today. "Sleep… maybe watch some TV or a movie," I say, indicating to the small TV and DVD player near the foot of the bed. The owner had mentioned there was a selection of DVD movies in the breakfast room for guests to borrow when we checked in.

"I'll go and see what movies they have here, okay?"

I nod, and then watch as Edward leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, my phone rings, and I turn and pick it up from the small nightstand where I had plugged it into the electrical socket to charge up.

It's Ali.

"Hi, Ali."

_"Hey - how are you? Esme told me what happened… or at least a version of what happened. Did you honestly fall over while you were getting undressed, or was it while you were dancing?"_

I chuckle. "It was neither." I go on to tell Ali the real version of events and we laugh at my rotten luck.

_"Anyway, the real reason I'm calling is because I have something urgent to tell you. Are you sitting down?"_

"I'm lying down. Is that good enough? What's wrong?"

_"Since I woke up so early this morning, I decided to have an afternoon nap, and… I had a dream. One of those dreams."_

I sit up immediately.

When we first became friends, one of the things Ali confided about to me, was her precognitive dreams.

Some of her dreams had been blessings, such as her blackjack win in Atlantic City, meeting and marrying Jazz, and the slot machine win in Vegas. But it is the dreams that have portended death that have been the hardest for Ali to deal with.

_Those_ dreams.

The first one happened in the spring of 1996, when she was ten years old. In the dream, she saw her father kneeling and laying a wreath of flowers in front of a black marble headstone. Her mother's name was written on the headstone along with the date. The date on the headstone was the 5th of February 1997.

Six months after having the dream, Ali's mom died of pneumonia while undergoing treatment for acute myelogenous leukemia.

At first, Ali didn't know how to deal with the knowledge that she had dreamed of her own mother's death before it had occurred; before she'd even become ill. Ali battled with guilt for years as she had told no one about the dream, often wondering if she could have somehow prevented her mother's death.

It was not until she turned seventeen, that she told her father, Joseph, about the dream, and that was because she had to convince him to install several steel bollards along the outer front wall and window of the aquatic center. At first, he didn't believe her, but Joseph decided to go along with her request in the end, since Ali had threatened to go on a hunger strike unless he did as she asked.

It was a month after the bollards had been installed that an elderly driver suffered a cardiac arrest in the parking lot of the aquatic center while reversing his car. The fire officers confirmed that had it not been for the bollards, the back of the car would have crashed through the window of the front office, possibly killing Joseph who was sitting at the reception desk near the window at the time of the crash.

From the tone and hesitancy of Ali's voice, I know it couldn't have been a good dream.

"Who did you dream about?"

_"It- it was about Edward."_

My blood runs cold, and my throat constricts.

"No," is all I can utter. Instantly, I'm in denial.

_"You can't allow Edward to go in the yacht race. Do whatever it takes to prevent him from getting on that boat."_

"Why? What did you see?" I ask, feeling sick.

Edward has been so excited about the yacht race. It's all he's talked about for months since he signed on. He's been training so hard, and the race is only four days away.

The door to our suite opens, and I jump in fright. A gasp escapes my throat.

"Hey. Who's on the phone?" Edward asks, smiling brightly, and I then miss what Ali just said to me.

I hold up a finger to signal to Edward that I need him to stop talking. "What did you just say?" I ask into the phone.

_"Bella… I said I saw Edward drowning."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN – French translation – La Belle Femme = The Beautiful Woman.**

**15 roses = I am truly sorry, please forgive me?  
><strong>

**Here's a little slideshow of some of the things mentioned in this chapter. Check out Phil's van, Ren's house, and Broomelea B&B. Remove brackets for link to work. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/chapter139**


	140. Chapter 140

**A/N – This is a little audio visual I cobbled together of Ali's dream. As usual, remove the brackets. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Ali_Dream**

* * *

><p>I feel dizzy, as though I'm about to pass out, and my hands are shaking.<p>

_"Bella? Bella? Are you still there?"_ Ali asks with concern.

After processing Ali's description of the dream, my beloved iPhone falls from my grasp, landing on the carpet with a soft thump.

Edward, rushing towards me in long strides, carelessly tosses some DVDs onto the nightstand. He quickly kneels down by the side of the bed to pick up my phone, and then brings it up to his ear.

"Hello? Who is this?"

-oo0oo-

"I'm sorry, but I still don't believe it."

How can Edward possibly challenge the facts?

Confused, I look up from my sling, abandoning the loose thread I've nervously been playing with. "Believe it," I mutter. "Ali's never been wrong before."

He's staring at me skeptically from his sitting position at the end of the bed. We've been discussing Ali and her dreams for the last thirty minutes. Edward isn't convinced - or at least he's not convinced her dream is pertinent to the race.

Leaning his head and shoulder against one of the four tall bed posts, he crosses his arms in front of him. "That's not entirely true, you know…" he counters.

"What do you mean?"

"Ali was convinced she was carrying a boy, remember? From the start, she told everyone she had a dream about a baby boy, and for months, she was madly buying everything in blue."

He has a point.

The week after Thanksgiving, Ali had her ultrasound.

Her baby wasn't at all shy during the all-important '_potty shot_'. The baby's little legs had been splayed wide apart (much to Jazz's horror) and three white lines were clearly visible, leaving no doubts.

Ali is carrying a girl.

As a result of the scan, Sue was suddenly the lucky recipient of a ton of cute onesies, knitted items, and baby bedding; all in various shades of blue, and Jazz was asking my Dad about gun ownership.

"Just in case she's right, this time, is there any way you can pull out of the race?" I ask, on the verge of tears again.

Edward sighs and nods once. "I can, just as long as the crew still meets the minimum safety requirements."

"What's the minimum?"

"Half the crew must have Yachting Australia's safety and sea survival certification. Two crew members, at least, need to hold advanced first aid qualifications, and they also need to have at least two crew members that have radio certification, such as a Marine Radio Operator's certificate of Proficiency."

"So, you could drop out, and they'd still be able to enter the race?" I know better than to ask Edward to convince Alec to pull out of the race. A great deal of planning and time have gone into readying the yacht and crew, as well as sponsor's funds. Alec will be highly unlikely to back out at the last minute over something as nebulous as a prophetic dream from a stranger.

"We'll see… I'll need to talk to Alec."

-oo0oo-

After speaking with Alec for twenty minutes - using my incapacity as an excuse for not going in the race - Edward hangs up. His expression is inscrutable as he stares down at a floral chintz cushion that's sitting on his lap. His finger is tracing along the intricate designs.

"So, you can drop out?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah... even without me, there are still two others who have marine radio certification and advanced first aid."

"What did Alec say?"

Edward's brows furrow, and his expression of annoyance regarding the situation is evident. "He was pissed at me, of course. Today, someone else already dropped out due to family issues. Losing another team member for an endurance yacht race means it's going to be a lot tougher on the remaining crew. There'll be less time for meal breaks and sleeping. There's more fatigue, and if the weather does turn sour…" he trails off.

He's still staring down at the cushion, clenching his jaw, and not meeting my gaze.

I should be feeling happy and relieved he's not going in the race, but I don't. He's doing this for me, because he wants to make me happy. Although he has no faith in what Ali dreamed, he's given up his own dream of racing because it's what _I_ wanted.

A measure of resentment is likely to be there, and I don't know what to do or say to make things right, apart from relenting and telling him that I'll support him if he wants to race.

However, I say nothing.

After a minute of silence, he gets up off the bed and starts to put his shoes on.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask.

"I just need to stretch my legs for a bit."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He shakes his head, and my heart sinks at his rejection. "You need to rest your ankle, and I just-" He sighs deeply. "I just need some time by myself to think. I won't be gone for long," he promises.

He gives me a quick peck on the cheek and then leaves the room, looking as though he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Closing my eyes, I will myself not to cry.

Honestly… what did I expect? That he'd be happy?

Poor Edward. Months of planning and anticipation – out the window.

I lay my head on the pillow. The silence in the room is unbearable, and I'm momentarily at a loss as to what to do to distract myself.

Sleep. Read, or watch TV?

A movie?

I look at the nightstand to the three DVDs sitting there, and I reach out to touch them.

A single snicker of suppressed amusement escapes from my nostrils when I see the titles on their spines.

_Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace. Young Adam, and Moulin Rouge. _

All movies starring Ewan McGregor - my guilty, now not-so-secret celebrity crush. I guess Edward thought he was being funny by bringing me these movies to watch.

**({'})** _Or else he was hoping to get laid._

I decide against the DVDs. I would have enjoyed watching these movies with Edward, but now…

My shoulder is aching like a bitch, so I figure it's time to take something for the pain.

After swallowing down two Endone, I get into bed. Grabbing the chintz cushion and hugging it to my chest to support my right arm and shoulder, I pray that sleep will overwhelm me.

-oo0oo-

**_Broomelea B & B – Leura - 7.30pm _**

At around 6.00pm, I awoke to find myself in a darkened, silent room, and I began to panic, wondering what had happened to Edward. Turning on the lamp, I'd spied a note on the nightstand.

_Bell,_

_I didn't want to wake you as you looked so peaceful.  
>Since I'm not going to race, I've decided to work on Ren's bike.<br>Call me when you wake up. Ed xx_

I called Edward, and he told me that he was already on his way back with some takeout. He returned with Chinese food, and we decided to eat and watch a DVD while sitting on the bed.

And so, here we are…

I'm trying to watch the movie while munching on prawn crackers, and Edward is just mocking it.

"So, when does Obi Wan whip out his lightsaber in this movie?"

"Shush, I'm trying to watch this," I complain.

He snickers at me.

"I dare you to furrow your brow, Nicole. Go on, just try to raise an eyebrow," he says to the TV screen.

I chuckle and throw a prawn cracker at him. "Will you shut up! I'm trying to concentrate."

"It's not like you haven't watched it a million times over. You're mouthing the words before the actors even speak or sing them."

"That's because I love this movie."

"It's supposed to be the Moulin Rouge – where's the nudity, is all I'm asking?"

I ignore him.

"Now we're talking. That's a hot outfit," he says, referring to Satine's black corset with suspenders, stockings, and full-length peignoir. "Oh, God, no… they're singing again. No one just bursts into song in real life. This movie is giving me heartburn."

Rolling my eyes at him, I huff in annoyance. "You are such a boy."

"I'm bored," he whines.

"Well, go and find something else to do. Read a book or something."

Edward starts packing up our used takeout containers, and he discards them into the trash. He then begins to strip his clothing off.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Taking a shower. I've been working in a hot shed all afternoon, and I feel grimy."

"Okay."

"Care to join me?" he asks, smirking and raising a questioning eyebrow.

"No. I'm good." I return my gaze to the screen.

This time, it's Edward who does the huffing before entering the bathroom.

He closes the bathroom door, and I start giggling. Grabbing the remote, I turn off the movie and begin to undress, but it takes longer than I planned.

Stupid arm.

Once I'm down to my bra and panties, I open the door and step into the steam-filled room. Through the foggy glass, I can see Edward running the soap over his body.

He turns around and grins. "What took you so long?"

"I can't get my bra off because of my stupid arm. Can you help me?" I ask coyly, and then I turn around.

He opens the glass door, and with two dripping hands, he unclasps my bra.

Just as I'm pulling my panties down, I see red.

And when I say, "I see red," I don't mean I'm angry; I mean I've been caught out a day early by a most unwelcome monthly visitor.

"Shit."

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"My period's early."

Edward sighs and then goes on washing. He knows there'll be nothing sexual from me tonight, or the next few, for that matter. Some women are okay with period sex, but I'm not one of them.

You may as well put a sign on my vajayjay that says, "_Closed for Business!_" I guess that's why Libby has been relatively quiet for the past few hours.

I get into the shower, and Edward helps me to wash my back before exiting the bathroom.

-oo0oo-

"Please, Edward, I'm begging you."

"Noooooooooo," he whines, snuggling down deeper into the blankets.

"If you were in my shoes, I'd do it for you."

Edward gives me '_the face_'.

It's the Edward Cullen '_I'll-do-anything-for-love-but-I-won't-do-that' _face.

"This is your own fault anyway," I say accusingly.

"How is it possibly my fault?"

"Because a certain person forgot to pack them back into my toiletries bag, that's why. I noticed you didn't forget to pack the condoms and sex toys though."

"For your information, it was Ren that packed up our stuff from the hotel bathroom, not me," he says defensively. "Can't you ring your Mum, and see if she can bring some later?" he asks while still staring at the TV screen. He presses the remote a few times before settling on _Cops: Adults Only._

Tonight, Mom and Phil have gone to a Christmas dinner show with their friends from the dance studio. Mom mentioned they would probably be out all night.

"They won't be back for ages. I need them right now, and it's not as if I can drive anywhere," I say, pointing to my injured arm for emphasis. I look at my iPhone. "Google Maps says there's a Woolworths just a two-minute drive up the road, and it's open until 10.00pm. Now, put some clothes on and stop being such a baby."

He puts the blankets over his head and groans.

I've just come to realize we've had this issue before. Previously, when Ali was on her honeymoon, I had called Edward with a code pink emergency, and he had refused to leave work early to buy me some tampons on his way home.

He said something about being scarred for life, but I didn't think much on it at the time. I thought he was just joking, because he seemed to relent. That was until Rosie turned up on my doorstep with four packets of tampons inside a brown paper bag. It seems Edward asked his best friend/ stepsister to help me out instead.

"Edward, what is your malfunction? It's just cotton, cardboard and plastic; one little packet. You never seem to have this issue when it comes to buying condoms."

Throwing the blankets forward, Edward gives me the face again, but I just raise an eyebrow in response. He sighs in resignation.

"All right, fine, I'll tell you. When I was thirteen, Mum sent me out on my bike one Saturday afternoon to buy tampons because she couldn't leave the antiques store to get some. So, I was at the end of the aisle, the one that has all the girly stuff, waiting for ages and ages for it to clear. It finally did, and I soon found the brand she specifically wanted. I was leaving the aisle, with the box of tampons in my hand, when a group of guys from school saw me, and they called out my name. In a panic, I shoved the box into my coat pocket.

"So, the guys and I started talking, and they mentioned checking out a new video game. I trailed along, but I was planning on ditching them in the game aisle by making some excuses about my mum expecting me home. Anyway, we were walking towards the entertainment section of Sainsbury's, when one of the security guards comes up behind me, and he claps a hand on my shoulder. In front of my friends, he made me empty my pockets, and they all saw the tampons. The guys at school called me Edwina for months and months."

I start giggling. "You know… this reminds me of the time I told you about my post-purchase trauma with Amazon dot com. Do you remember what happened after that?"

He smirks at the memory. "I got you off in McKenna's back office with a clit vibe in just under three minutes?"

"Yeah, but first, you tricked me into the store."

"Err… what are you saying?" All traces of humor leave his face.

"You've left me with no choice – I'm invoking the 'undeniable request'."

Edward gapes at me - stunned that I could use the undeniable request to put him in such a predicament.

"But-"

"I want a packet of regular Kotex U tampons. Make it a large packet."

With a huff, he rolls out of bed and mutters obscenities under his breath as he dresses.

-oo0oo-

**_25 minutes later…_**

I hear the door handle turn, and Edward enters the room. He tosses a black box onto the bed, along with two packets of Tim Tams – Dark Choc Mint, and Turkish Delight.

He's my freakin' hero.

Hugged to his chest is what appears to be a half-empty carton of Heinekin.

"Did you seriously just drink three bottles of beer in order to buy tampons?"

"_No!_" he exclaims. "Me and the other guy who was stuck buying pads for his missus decided since the rest of our evening was a bust, we'd split a half-dozen carton of beer between us." He grins.

I roll my eyes and snicker. "See… other men buy feminine hygiene products for their women."

"Yeah, but you should have heard what else he was planning on putting in his cart before I came along. He said he was going to buy clothes pegs, duct tape, rope, a padlock, a jar of Vaseline, and a frozen turkey."

"Wh- what?" I sputter.

"He figured the checkout chick would be so distracted, wondering what he planned on doing with the other stuff that she wouldn't even notice the pads." He chuckles as he sits on the bed with a beer in hand and twists off the lid.

I burst out laughing and pick up the box of tampons. It's then that I notice something. They're the right brand and absorbency, but they don't have applicators. It's not a huge deal, and I suppose I'll manage (even left handed), but I decide to mess with Edward's head.

"Um, Edward?"

He burps softly after downing half the contents of the bottle. "Yeah?" he answers, placing the beer on the nightstand.

"You bought the wrong ones."

"What do you mean?"

"These don't have applicators. You'll have to go back to the store and exchange them."

His answering expression of incredulity is so comical that I can't keep a straight face. It's then he realizes I'm screwing with him.

"Why you little…"

Then things get downright serious.

"Hey now! Don't be foolish. Just drop the Tim Tams, Edwina, and that way no one gets hurt…"

-oo0oo-

**_Tuesday December 25_****_th_****_- Christmas Day - Katoomba - 3.30pm._**

"Thanks for lunch and thank you for my Christmas presents."

My mom gave me some gorgeous lingerie sets, of course. When Edward saw them, his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"You're welcome. Thank you for your gift, too."

"I love you, Mom," I say, hugging her tightly with my one good arm.

"Love you too, Belly. Everything's going to be alright."

I swallow hard, trying with all my strength not to cry. "I hope so..."

"Call me anytime you want to talk, okay?" she says.

"I will."

I release her, and Edward moves in to say goodbye. Mom hugs him fiercely.

"Thank you so much for Bella's presents," Edward says cheekily.

Mom chuckles. "Thank you for all the work you've done on the bike. You've made an old girl exceedingly happy."

"My pleasure," he replies. "I had fun working on it. Once it's been sprayed, can you email me a picture?"

"Absolutely." Mom hugs him again and quietly says something into his ear that sounds like, "_Be safe_."

Edward nods and smiles as they release each other from their embrace.

Phil then says goodbye to us, and we get into the rental car. Edward backs the car out of the driveway, and we wave to them as we drive past the house.

For the past three days, instead of heading into Sydney each day for crew practice, Edward has spent much of his time in my mom's garage, fixing her bike. Mom and I hung out a lot at La Belle Femme - the lingerie store she co-owns with Phil. It's been great spending time with her, and now that I'm older, I feel as though I understand my mom a whole lot better.

Our evenings consisted of going out to dinner after work with Mom and Phil. We would then watch a DVD with them, and we'd chat over wine or coffee, or else Edward would head back into Mom's garage to continue working on the bike, until well after midnight, in an effort to get it repaired before Christmas. Edward and I had mutually decided that fixing up the bike would be our Christmas gift to Mom.

Now it's just a matter of getting the bike repainted to bring it back to its former glory.

I'm going to miss my mom. I was hoping to spend a bit more time with her.

Today, Christmas Day, was supposed to be a perfect day for Edward and me; our first Christmas together. However, it kind of went to Hell after Alec's call at 8.00am this morning.

As a surprise, Edward arranged for our friends and family to celebrate Christmas with us via Skype. While they enjoyed a Christmas Eve lunch at The Broho, Edward and I ate our Christmas breakfast in front of my laptop webcam. Everyone took turns to wish us merry Christmas, and they opened the gifts we'd left for them, so we could see their reactions.

They, in turn, opened and showed the gifts they had given to us, as we wanted to join in on the gift receiving fun, even if we couldn't be there in person to unwrap them.

Esme and Carlisle gave me an iPad. It was too much, but I was so excited and grateful. Dad and Sue bought me a lovely pair of earrings. From the rest of the family, I received iTunes cards, movie tickets, perfume, books, and a gift certificate for a spa day - courtesy of Leah.

At various times, the seat at the banquet table, where the laptop was situated, was occupied by our loved ones.

We talked about our trip so far, the conference, the new friends I'd made, and my shoulder injury. I mentioned Mom and Phil a lot, of course, and that we were highly anticipating our Aussie Christmas barbeque lunch as the weather was quite warm. Christmas in summer is such a novelty to me, and everyone mentioned how tanned my skin had become during my short time in Australia.

Edward talked to Carlisle about my mom's bike; about how he tracked down some of the parts he'd needed to fix it up; shipping the parts overnight from various wreckers around Australia.

While Dad was in the 'hot seat,' he was holding Embry in his arms. It was delightful to see my little brother again, even though he was sleeping. Dad and Sue looked tired, but happy, as did Rosie and Emmett.

It seemed Rosie and Emmett had finally come up with a name for their daughter, which was announced to everyone at the table as we celebrated. Esme was moved to tears.

They'd chosen to name their little girl, Anne, using Esme's middle name. Apparently, they are still trying to think of a middle name for her. Rosie had told us that she wanted to use the name Marie, but Emmett vetoed it, arguing that he didn't want to name his innocent little girl after someone who wrote about sex toys… even if he did enjoy reading the Sex On Sundays blog himself. Dad then weighed in on the conversation and mentioned that my middle name was Marie.

I almost choked on my orange juice.

I don't think anyone noticed… much, because that was when Alec called.

Alec begged Edward to reconsider crewing for him. Without Edward, Alec's boat was going to be withdrawn from the race.

It seems that since Edward last spoke with Alec, Breaking Dawn lost two more crew members, one of whom underwent emergency heart surgery for insertion of a cardiac stent this morning, and another who is in jail for reasons that have yet to be disclosed.

Without those two crew members, Breaking Dawn wouldn't meet the minimum safety requirement. Alec desperately needed Edward to rejoin the crew.

And he said, "Yes."

During Alec's call, Ali sat in the hot seat, and things became tense. After the call, she begged Edward not to get on the boat. Ali and Edward then got into a heated argument, and I had to yell at them both, telling them to, "Stop ruining Christmas, more than it's already been ruined."

Edward looked at me, sadly, and left the room. I burst into tears, and that was the end of that.

So now, we're heading back to Sydney, to Alec and Athena's rental accommodation in McMahon's Point.

He's going to race, and there's nothing more I can say to change his mind.

-oo0oo-

**_Just off the Great Western Highway - 4.30pm._**

*Flick*

_… giving my goodbye  
>Drive my car into the ocean<br>You'll think I'm dead, but I sail away  
>On a wave of mutilation<br>Wave of mutilation…_

*Flick*

_… but then I let you go  
>And now it's only fair that I should let you know<br>What you should know.  
>I can't live<br>If living is without you…_

*Flick*

_…forget and forgive  
>There's a world to explore<br>Tales to tell back on shore.  
>I just spent six months in a leaky boat<br>Six months in a leaky boat…_

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I mutter.

*Flick. Flick. Flick*

I groan in frustration, pushing button after button on the damn radio to find a song that won't remind me of tomorrow. Surely, one of these stations is playing some Christmas tunes. People want to hear cheerful music on Christmas Day.

I know I certainly do.

_…young, I wanna be forever young,  
>Do you really wanna live forever?<br>Forever…_

Edward swallows his last mouthful of coffee. "For God's sake, Bella, just find a bloody station and stop playing with the radio," he says exasperatedly.

I glare at him as I defiantly jab my forefinger on the next button.

*Flick*

_Rolling in the deeeeeeep…_

"Ugh. I think the universe is trying to tell us something."

Edward doesn't say anything. It's all been said.

Giving up, I turn the radio off - plunging the car into silence. We're parked in front of a McDonalds we found just off the highway in a town called Blaxland.

It's the halfway point to our destination.

Tonight, on the eve of the race, Alec is hosting a lavish charity dinner at the Sydney Aquarium for the Humpty Dumpty Foundation. Among the guests invited to the gala event, are the Breaking Dawn crew, their friends and families, various celebrities involved with the foundation, and race sponsors. The proceeds raised during the gala event and those already raised by the Breaking Dawn crew will help to purchase vital medical equipment for a number of children's hospitals in Australia and East Timor.

Even though it's a worthy cause, I don't feel like going.

In fact, I've already decided I'm not going.

Edward crushes his empty coffee cup and opens the driver-side door. "Are you finished?" he asks, indicating to my barely touched coffee. I've only taken two sips. The first sip tasted really lousy, and the second sip just confirmed my first impression. I guess no one genuinely wants to work on Christmas Day.

Feeling too sick to swallow down the shitty excuse for coffee, I pass him the cup, and he exits the car to toss it into the trash.

Once we're back on the Highway, Edward turns on the radio.

_These tears I've cried  
>I've cried a thousand oceans<br>And if I'm floating  
>In the darkness<em>

_Well I can't believe that I would keep  
>Keep you from flying<br>So I will cry a thousand more  
>If that's what it takes to sail you home<br>sail you home, sail you home._

*Flick*

After a few minutes of silence, Edward sighs heavily. "I promise, Bella; I'm coming back."

I want to scream and rail at him. I want to tell him that I don't have much faith in his promises, since he promised me that he wouldn't go in the fucking race three days ago.

He promised.

He fucking promised.

One phone call was all it took for him to change his mind.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, feeling tired and emotionally drained.

"Please, don't make any more promises you can't keep."

-oo0oo-

**_Sydney Aquarium – Darling Harbour – 8.30pm._**

While staring at the strange creatures swimming gracefully on the other side of the glass, I sip from my fifth glass of champagne.

Operation: Get shit-faced drunk is in progress.

"…delirious sailors often mistook the dugongs for seductive, fishy-tailed mermaids after too long out on the ocean," Jeff, the aquarium tour guide, recites. "The word dugong comes from the Malay word meaning 'lady of the sea'."

The two dugongs circle each other and then meet, muzzle to muzzle, in a kiss. The gathered crowd simultaneously says, "Aww" and "So cute," at Pig and Waru's display. Their brief moment of affection is broken when two trays drop down to the sandy floor of their marine enclosure. Suddenly, it's every dugong for themselves, and they race to grab at the food.

The tour guide continues, "The dugong diet here at Sydney Aquarium consists of mainly lettuce. In the wild, a dugong would normally feed on the bottom of the ocean. To mimic that, we feed them from weighted trays threaded with cos lettuce, bok choy, English spinach and choy sum. Pig, our male dugong, is also quite partial to snow-pea sprouts…"

I take another sip from my glass, only to find that it's empty. Turning away from the crowd, I make my way up the ramps and out of Mermaid Lagoon.

As I enter Reef Theatre, the area that is hosting the dinner, I see Edward sitting at our table. He's deeply engrossed in a conversation with Athena and Alec, their daughter, Megan, and two other people I believe to be part of the seventeen-man and one-woman crew of Breaking Dawn.

On my way to the bar, Edward tries to get my attention, but I ignore him. Instead, I put my empty glass down on the bar and hastily exit the dining area.

Like a coward, I head for the restroom, as soon as I see Edward leave his seat. If we speak now, it will just be to argue.

"Bella!"

Muttering obscenities, I abruptly push open the door of the ladies room with my left shoulder before he can reach me.

I don't want to be here. In my head, I've dubbed this little soiree 'The last supper.'

Had Edward and I been staying in a hotel, I would have refused to come and sent my apologies with him instead. Unfortunately, as we're staying with Alec and Athena in their rental apartment, I was left with little to no choice when Athena repeatedly cajoled me into coming to the gala dinner.

Surprisingly, the ladies room is empty, and I make my way over to the vanity sink. Turning on the cold water and grabbing a wad of paper towels, I dampen them slightly and run them around the back of my neck and across my forehead.

I think the champagne has finally gone to my head. My face is starting to feel numb.

It's when I turn off the water that I hear soft crying. Tossing the wet paper into the trash, I walk along the row of stalls to the very end. Sitting there, on the closed lid of the toilet, is Dani, Athena and Alec's eight-year-old granddaughter, and she's sobbing her little heart out.

"Hey, Dani. Are you okay?"

Dani looks up at me and sniffles.

"It's me, Bella, remember? I'm staying with your nan, while Grandpa Alec sails to Tasmania."

"I know," she replies croakily.

As soon as we had stepped into Alec and Athena's apartment, we had been ambushed at the door by Dani. She had taken an instant like to Edward because her first question to us had been, "What's your name?" quickly followed by, "Can you play Bullshit?"

Edward had told her our names and replied that it was his favorite card game, but said that where he came from, they called it 'Cheat' instead of BS. I, however, had never played Cheat (or Bullshit) so I'd shaken my head.

Before Edward could even put our bags down, Dani had dragged him over to the dining table where a stack of playing cards lay ready for a game.

Athena had apologized for her granddaughter's behavior, but Edward didn't seem to mind at all, and he'd spent most of the remaining afternoon playing bullshit/cheat with Alec and Dani, while discussing race tactics, the boat, and the weather forecast for the next four days.

The weather bureau's latest forecast was for west to northwesterly winds at 15 to 20 knots, and while it may get a little rougher closer to the notorious stretch of water known as Bass Strait, with gusts reaching 30 knots, there's nothing to indicate that the fleet of yachts should expect any trouble from Mother Nature during the 628 nautical-mile route to the Derwent River, Hobart.

However, we all know Mother Nature can be a fickle bitch, and it's the events of 1998 that weigh heavily in the back of my mind.

In 1998, 78-knot winds and 80-foot spiking waves - the perfect storm - led to the Sydney-Hobart Yacht Race tragedy.

Of the 115 boats that started the race, only forty-four finished. Sixty-six boats retired; 41 with storm damage. Five boats sank, and six sailors lost their lives.

Regarded by many as the toughest ocean race on earth, largely due to its unpredictability, the Sydney-Hobart race is the one that all other yacht races are measured. It's the Everest of amateur ocean racing, an event that demands the very best, and sometimes it can deliver the very worst outcomes.

It's a life taker.

I step forward and grab some sheets of toilet tissue from the dispenser and give them to Dani. She wipes her eyes and then her nose.

"What's wrong?" I ask Dani. "Are you hurt or sick?"

She shakes her head and releases a shuddering breath before bursting into tears again.

"Tell me what's wrong and maybe I can help," I say, leaning down so I'm at her eye level.

"I'm scared. I- I don't- don't want my mu-mum to go," she stutters out between sobs.

"She's still here, Dani" I say. "She hasn't left without you."

"No! To- to Tasmania," she says.

Realization dawns on me. Dani's mom, Megan, is the female crew member on Breaking Dawn. Like me, this poor girl is worried out of her mind that the person she loves the most is going in the race.

Knowing what I think I know, I can't say that I blame Dani for being worried. I kind of want to cry, too.

After a few more minutes of crying, she doesn't seem to calm down. I need to find Megan.

"Come on. Let's go find your mommy." I hold my hand out to her, and she takes it.

As soon as we leave the bathroom, Edward steps forward. "Bella!" Seeing I'm not alone, and I'm holding onto a crying child, he asks, "What's wrong with Dani?" He drops down on one knee and studies her tear-stained face. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She throws herself forward and buries her face into his shoulder while clinging to his neck.

"Dani's worried about her mom going in the race," I explain.

"Hey," Edward says soothingly. "Your mum is going to be fine. We'll only be gone for two or three days, and when you meet us in Hobart, we're going to have a big party with fireworks and everything."

Dani tightens her grip around Edward's neck as he lifts her up and carries her back to the banquet area. Using the toilet tissue, I trail behind him and wipe the tears and boogers from Dani's face.

"Will you look after my mum, Edward?" Dani asks sincerely. "And Grandpa, too? He's so ancient."

Edward and I both chuckle. Alec is only fifty-two – hardly old enough to be considered _ancient_.

"Sure, I will," Edward promises. "Breaking Dawn is a team, and we all look out for each other."

We reach the table, and Megan looks at Dani with worry. "What's going on?" she asks, looking at Edward and then to her daughter who is still clinging to him like a limpet.

"Someone just has a little case of pre-race nerves," Edward explains, as he passes Dani off to her mother.

"Oh, sweetheart. You must stop worrying yourself so much. Everything's going to be fine; I've told you," Megan soothes softly as she brushes tangled strands of hair back from her daughter's forehead before kissing it.

"I know it's going to be fine now. Edward's going to look after you." Dani smiles brightly.

Megan chuckles. "Is that so?" she says looking at Edward with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Edward shrugs and chuckles too. "Apparently, Alec is too old for the job – he's ancient, and now I have to babysit him too."

"Kids; they say the darndest things." Alec then looks at Edward, fakes a swoon, and then embraces him. "Oh, Eddie. You're my hero." He roars with laughter when Edward smacks him up the side of the head.

It's as though a switch has been flipped, and Dani's previously hopeless demeanor has been replaced by joy and relief.

I only wish I could feel as confident.

As though sensing my melancholy, Edward takes hold of my hand. Addressing Alec, he says, "I think it's time we all make a move. It's getting late, and we have an early start in the morning."

Looking down at his watch, Alec agrees, and he stands upon one of the chairs to address the guests in the room. "Okay crew, let's call it a night. Early to bed; early to rise, and I'll see you all at breakfast. As for the rest of you hangers on – carry on; we're paid up until ten."

Laughter, cheers, and applause erupt around the room.

I grab my purse, and Edward and I follow along behind Alec and Athena, heading for the limo that's waiting to take us back to McMahon's Point.

-oo0oo-

**_December 26_****_th_****_ – Boxing Day – 9.00am – Four hours until the race begins._**

Fueled by Ali's predictions, alcohol and too much cheese, nightmares intermittently plagued my sleep.

_A storm._

_Boats tossed, battered and broken like bath toys._

_Man overboard._

_Bubbles._

_Panic._

_Confusion._

_Darkness._

I wake, feeling more tired than when I went to bed, and my head is throbbing. I feel as though my eyeballs have been attacked with sandpaper, and someone, or something, took a dump in my mouth.

Looking towards the left side of the bed, painfully, my brain sloshes against the inside of my skull. I find his side of the bed disheveled and empty.

I vaguely recall Edward had kissed me goodbye, sometime between five and six in the morning, before leaving with Alec and Megan for breakfast with the rest of the crew.

Throwing on my robe, I shuffle into the bathroom, so I can empty my elephant-sized bladder. My breath is toxic enough to strip paint, and my teeth are furry. After brushing my teeth, I swallow some Motrin I found in the bottom of my handbag and head for the shower.

It takes me ten minutes to get dressed, mainly due to my struggle to get into a bra. With only the use of my left hand, everything seems to take a monumental effort. For the past few mornings since my injury, Edward had been helping me to dress. It's only after I'm finally dressed in a loose-fitting tank top and capri pants, lying, panting and sweating on the bed, that I recall one of the bra and panty sets my mom gave me for Christmas has a front opening clasp.

**_9.30am – Three and a half hours until the race begins._**

Suddenly, I smell the coffee.

Ambrosia. Nectar of the god's.

Following my nose, I head for the kitchen and find Athena sitting at the dining table playing a game of Bullshit with Dani.

"Morning," I croak.

"Morning," Athena replies brightly.

"Wanna play with us, Bella? I can teach you," Dani says.

"Maybe later, okay? I think I need some breakfast first."

"There's cereal in that cupboard above the kettle, or there are some crumpets, toast, and English muffins," Athena points out.

I opt for toast and coffee and sit at the table to eat my breakfast while Dani patiently explains the rules of Bullshit to me.

-oo0oo-

**_10.30am – Two and a half hours until the race begins._**

After having my ass handed to me on a plate, five times in a row, by an eight-year-old card shark, we ready ourselves to head out to the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia. The driver knocks at the door, alerting us that it's time to go. I open the door, and I'm surprised to see it's Lee standing there, the very same driver who shuttled me and the girls around town last week. He's just as pleasantly surprised to see me, and he escorts us outside to a shiny, silver town car, helping to carry our picnic basket that's filled with Christmas Day leftovers.

-oo0oo-

**_10.50am – City Cross Tunnel._**

"What's going on? Why are we slowing?" Athena asks Lee.

He's about to reply when the emergency broadcast signal chimes over the radio, also interrupting the song playing on the regular station.

_"This is the City Cross Tunnel control room. This information is for motorists traveling eastbound. Emergency vehicles will be traveling through the eastbound carriageway. If you hear a siren or see flashing lights, you must give way when it is safe to do so, until the emergency vehicle passes. Thank you for your cooperation."_

Nervously, I look at Athena. "Are we going to make it on time?" I ask her, as the traffic comes to a complete standstill.

Athena glances at her watch. "I'm not sure. They'll be getting the boat into position at the starting line about an hour before the race starts. How long does it take from here to the yacht club?" she asks Lee.

"About another ten minutes."

A cacophony of sirens can be heard throughout the tunnel. Suddenly, two motorbikes race past our car, weaving their way in and out of the traffic. Emblazoned across the backs of their riders are the words 'Intensive Care Paramedic'.

Another emergency broadcast chime sounds, alerting drivers to turn off their motors, and for all drivers and passengers to stay inside their vehicles.

"We could be here a while, ladies," Lee warns.

Fuck!

I take out my iPhone, but I can't seem to get a signal. Tossing my phone back into my bag, I growl in frustration.

If we don't get to the marina on time, I won't be able to say goodbye to Edward.

"Athena? Does your phone work?" She grabs her phone out of her bag, but she too only has SOS reception.

The thought that this morning's mumbled goodbye, as he kissed me, may be the last time I ever see him or speak to him, causes an unsettling feeling of panic to surge through me.

I _have_ to speak to him.

I _have_ to tell Edward that I love him.

Even if it's for the very last time.

-oo0oo-

**_12.05pm – Cruising Yacht Club of Australia._**

Double fuck!

We've just missed them.

It took ages for the jackknifed truck to be cleared from the tunnel and for the critically injured to be taken to a hospital.

We make our way to the end of the pier. In the distance, we can see the majestic super maxi yacht _Breaking Dawn_ as it makes its way towards the starting line, now that the exclusion zone is in effect.

The largest boats competing in the race, the 100-foot and 98-foot maxis and the Volvo 70s, along with other yachts over 60-foot, will start off the front line by Nielsen Park, just north of Shark Island at 1.00pm.

Athena, Dani, and I wave at the retreating yacht in the hope that one of the Breaking Dawn crew members will see us. We see some of the crew waving, and we frantically wave back.

Athena pulls out a pair of binoculars. "I can see Megan and Edward at the stern," she exclaims excitedly. "Dani! You've got to see this!" Athena quickly positions the binoculars in front of her granddaughter's eyes, and she lifts the little girl up onto her shoulders.

Dani squeals in delight. "Mummy's holding up a sign for me! It says, 'I love you Dani. I'll see you soon'." She's beaming brightly. "Hey… what does one-oh-eight roses mean?" she asks, dropping the binoculars from her face and looking down at me.

"Huh?" I look up at her in confusion.

"Mummy passed the sign over to Edward, and he turned it around. It says, 'Bella Swan one-oh-eight roses'."

Dani passes the binoculars to me, and I locate the retreating yacht among the thousands of spectator boats on the harbour. Standing at the stern, next to Megan, is Edward. Megan looks back at us through a pair of binoculars and waves while Edward holds up a sign at chest height.

_Bella Swan  
>108 Roses?<em>

Beneath the words, is a rough drawing of a rose.

I have no idea what it means, so I pass the binoculars to Athena and quickly pull out my iPhone to search for the answer on Google.

Finding the answer, tears immediately well in my eyes, and I look up and nod.

Then I scream, "YES!" I shout over and over. "YES! YES! YES!"

Grabbing the binoculars once again, I look at the yacht. Megan is excitedly jumping up and down giving Edward a sideways hug. He turns the sign around again and places his hand over Dani's name.

_I love you...I'll see you soon xxx_

Taking the binoculars from Megan, he looks through them and waves.

"I love you, too," I whisper, and then I wave, hoping he can still see me.

Come Hell or high water, please come back to me, Edward Cullen - just like you promised.

When I drop the binoculars from my face, Athena looks at me questioningly. "What was that about?"

"Edward just asked me to marry him… and I said, 'Yes'."

* * *

><p><strong>AN – 108 roses = Will you marry me?  
><strong>

**Song lyrics used in this chapter****:**

**Wave Of Mutilation – Pixies  
>Without You – Nilsson<br>Six Months In A Leaky Boat – Split Enz (Not The Wiggles!)  
>Forever Young – Youth Group<br>Rolling In The Deep – Adele  
>1000 Oceans – Tori Amos<strong>

**Video footage was borrowed from 'Situation Critical – Hell On High Water' and the sound effects were found somewhere on the net, I'm just too lazy to find them again.**

**Next few chapters are in EPOV.**

**B.O.B xxx**


	141. Chapter 141

**_A/N – To understand where Edward's head is at, we need to fill in a few of the blanks by going back a few days._**

* * *

><p><strong>EPOV<strong>

**_Friday 21_****_st_****_ December -Royal Hospital for Women - Randwick - 9.00am._**

"Tell Stephan to meet me in the foyer of The Shangri-La at around one. We'll go to lunch and then pick up his costume for tonight."

_"Thanks, Edward. I really appreciate it," _Senna replies.

"And if you look in the inner-left compartment of Bella's suitcase, you'll find a travel sewing kit. There should be a thread thingy in it so you can undo Bella's handiwork." I laugh.

_"You mean a seam ripper?"_

"Yeah, whatever it's called."

Senna sighs. _"We have to come up with a way to get her back. She's been pranking us all week."_

Bella is such a shit stirrer. "I'll let you know if I think of anything. Anyway, I've got to hang up; I'm at this presentation thing, and I'm obligated to schmooze."

_"Okay then. Thanks, Edward. Bye."_

"Yep. See you later."

Chuckling to myself as I end the call, I walk over to the tea trolley. One of the volunteers pours me a cup of coffee, and then offers some scones with strawberry jam and whipped cream.

"Thank you," I say, taking a particularly heavy-laden scone.

As I devour the scone in three bites, I walk towards the medical equipment on display in the foyer.

Alec Kavanagh and I, along with the other members of the Breaking Dawn crew, are standing in the main foyer of the Royal Hospital for Women for a morning tea presentation. So far, the crew has managed to raise $750,000 for charity.

With our corporate sponsor agreeing to match our total, dollar for dollar (_if_ we manage to get our yacht across the finish line) The Humpty Dumpty Foundation - our charity of choice - will receive something within the realm of one point five million dollars.

Today, $200,000 of the money we've already raised has been donated to the Newborn Care Center. The money will go towards the purchase of two humidicribs, similar to the one standing before me, along with the associated monitoring equipment.

While looking into the see-through Perspex box, a flashback from last year invades my thoughts.

As though it was yesterday, I remember standing next to Mum and Rosie, feeling utterly helpless as we all looked down at Milly's tiny body encased within a humidicrib. She was so scrawny with IV, feeding, and breathing tubes going into her body, and monitoring lines taped all over her wrinkly, jaundiced skin.

"It makes you feel good to be a part of something so worthwhile, doesn't it?" a female voice says, startling me out of my memories.

I look up from the empty, state-of-the-art humidicrib. Megan Kavanagh, Alec's daughter, is standing on the other side of the life-saving piece of technology. She has a cup of coffee in one hand, and a half-eaten lamington in the other.

"Yeah," I reply, after taking a sip from my own coffee, "it does."

"Did you see my dad during that New Beginnings video? He had tears streaming down his face." Megan snickers.

"He wasn't the only one. If I correctly recall, I saw quite a few teary eyes around the room; yours included," I tease.

"I'm allowed to get weepy, because I'm a woman and a mum," Megan says defensively. "What's your excuse, tough guy?"

I'll confess, my own eyes may have been a little misty after the presentation, too. Watching the video about the life-and-death struggles faced by premature and sick infants certainly pushed some emotional buttons for me.

"Let's just say I have some experience of looking into one of these things and being scared as hell that the tiny baby inside won't make it out alive."

Megan looks up at me with an expression of surprise. "Dad didn't mention you had a kid."

"Um… I don't." No need to get into the specifics of how Milly carries half of my DNA, but isn't actually my daughter. "My uh- niece was in one of these things for ten days after she was born. She was born a few weeks early and in distress. She weighed just over five pounds, and she aspirated some stuff during birth."

Megan nods in understanding.

"I remember there was an engraved silver plaque on the side of the humidicrib. The plaque mentioned the crib had been donated by an athlete who had lost her premature twins. She organized a fundraising marathon to purchase the humidicrib. At the time, I thought it was inspiring that someone, who had endured such a devastating loss, would give such a tremendous donation to help save other premature and ill babies. Due to the generosity of a stranger, my niece recovered and left the hospital three weeks after she was born."

"So, she came through it all right?" Megan asks.

"Yeah, in fact, she became a big sister just the other day." I pull out my phone and show Megan the latest photo. It's a picture of Rosie holding both Milly and my new niece in her arms."

Megan coos over the picture. "She's such a pretty little thing."

I put my phone back in my pocket, and then drink down the last of my coffee.

"I guess this is your way of paying it forward then," Megan says, indicating to the humidicrib. "Dad told me that you managed to raise nearly $80,000, that's more than double what some of the others managed to achieve. How'd you do that?"

"I'll admit I had some help from my family, especially from my mum's club. We held quite a few fundraising evenings, and my step-father and I auctioned items such as helicopter lessons and scenic flights," I explain. "But this isn't just paying it forward. As your father said during his speech, there's a lot more work that needs to be done."

Megan looks at me in admiration. "No wonder my dad likes you so much. You're a good man, Edward Cullen."

I smile and shrug off her compliment. "Takes one to know one, I guess."

-oo0oo-

**_Saturday, 22nd December - Broomelea B & B – Leura - 3.00pm_****.**

_Shit, fuck, bugger, fuck, damn, shit, arse, bollocks, fuck, fucker. _

_Stupid fucking cow._

Reaching under the bed, I grab for my shoes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Bella asks me, as I'm tying my shoelaces.

"I just need to stretch my legs for a bit."

_Actually, what I want to do is punch some holes in a few walls and kick stuff over, because I'm so fucking angry with your so-called best friend right now._

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asks.

_Believe me; you do not want to be around me when I'm feeling like this._

I shake my head. "You need to rest your ankle, and I just-"

_Fuck! How do I say this without letting her know how I'm really feeling? Without telling her the truth._

"I just need some time by myself to think. I won't be gone for long."

I give Bella a quick kiss on the cheek and try to ignore the crestfallen look on her face as I leave the room.

As soon as I walk out the front door of Broomelea, I find myself surrounded by three large dogs. They look like Airedale Terriers. One of them has a soggy tennis ball in its mouth, and it drops the ball at my feet.

"Is that a hint?" I ask the dog in question.

As I reach down to pick up the ball, I notice the name tag attached to its collar. It says 'Tess'.

I pat the dog's head and throw the ball. Two of the dogs scamper after it. I look down at the dog remaining by my side and pat its head. The tag on the collar says 'Noah'. The dog is staring back at me.

"What? You think you're too smart to chase the ball?"

The other dogs return, one carrying the ball. I have to wrestle it out of the dog's mouth. It seems this dog, Willow, doesn't like to drop the ball.

After extracting the ball from her teeth, I toss it again and sit on the porch steps as the two females battle it out to get it first. Noah plonks himself down beside me and groans. The females return, and this time Tess has the ball. She seems to be the better trained of the two, and she delivers the ball right into my hand.

"Good girl." While patting her on the head, I get a lolloping lick on my wrist in return.

Over and over, I throw the ball and either Willow or Tess returns it. Noah seems content to sit next to me to receive any attention. Maybe he is the smartest of the three dogs after all. He gets all the pats and rubs without expending any effort.

Thanks to these three animals, I can feel some of the anger dissipating, but I'm still annoyed.

Ali should have spoken to me first, and then I could have put her in her fucking place.

Because of Ali, Bella got upset, and now I've lost the opportunity to race the Sydney-Hobart.

The disappointment I feel at being unable to join in with my team mates, when we're so close to the starting line, is a crushing blow. I feel as though I'm letting the team down.

_What a fucking mess._

If I thought Ali was a bit flaky and irresponsible before, it's nothing compared to what I think of her right now.

What Ali said to Bella terrified her - unnecessarily so - and that pisses me off to no end.

Seriously, I have half a mind to call Jazz to tell him to get out the butterfly net, tranquilizer darts, and straitjacket, so he can haul his psycho, gambling-addicted missus off to the funny farm.

I silently wonder if Bella would hold Ali's prophetic dreams in such high regard if she knew the truth, because the truth is that her friend is a gambling addict. Thanks to her so-called dreams and hunches, Ali has lost a sizeable amount of her's and Jazz's fortune.

While it's true Ali did get lucky, twice, with two big gambling wins, she also managed to fritter away a lot of money in the process.

Bella thinks Jazz quit his band because he wanted to be near Ali and the baby. The truth is, he couldn't go on tour around the country, worrying that his wife was spending all her spare time frequenting casinos and playing online blackjack or poker.

Fortunately, for Jazz, he confided in me, so I was able to help him to sort out their financial situation before she blew the fucking lot. Now he has full control over their money and assets, and Ali has been barred from every gambling establishment in the state. If Ali wants money for anything, she has to ask Jazz for permission. She also has to attend regular therapy sessions.

Unfortunately, for me, Jazz made me swear on my own life not to tell anyone - especially Bella. So it put me in an awkward position when I was subtly trying to point out to her that Ali's dreams aren't always entirely accurate.

I look down at my watch and realize I've been out here for 45 minutes. Now that I'm feeling somewhat calmer, I'll go back inside.

I stand and begin to make my way towards the door, and my three furry friends try to follow.

"Sorry. Play time is over - maybe tomorrow."

_Since it seems I'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands over the next week, and it's all thanks to one Alice Hale._

-oo0oo-

**_Tuesday - December 25_****_th_****_ - Broomelea B and B - Leura - 8.00am._**

Feeling sated after consuming fruit, cereal, toast, and the best scrambled eggs I've ever eaten, we're leaning with our backs against the headboard as we wash down our breakfast with glasses of chilled orange juice and espresso coffee.

Bella and I are enjoying our Christmas morning together; the first of many to come – I hope.

While still in our pajamas, we've eaten our breakfast in bed, in front of Bella's laptop, while our family and friends back home in Olympia have enjoyed lunch at The Broho.

Bella was so surprised.

I love Christmas, and I can't wait to get home, so I can tinker around with the gifts I've received.

Carlisle and Charlie both pitched in and bought me a new rod and high tech fishing reel. I think they're hinting that they want me to come out fishing with them more often, or else they want to spend time with me on my boat.

Mum gave me some handmade books from one of my favorite photographers, Lauren E. Simonutti. She was an amazingly gifted, but mentally troubled woman who sadly died earlier this year. The books, '_The Devil's Alphabet_' and '_Drowning, not waving; 31 visual attempts at a justification for suicide,_' are quite rare. So the fact that my mum managed to find two of them is simply incredible.

I've also received the usual smaller gifts, such as CDs, DVDs, cologne, and the latest novels from some of my favorite authors. While the rest of the world has gone digital, I still prefer the tactile experience of reading from a paperback.

Bella and I have decided to exchange our gifts to each other at Ren's house after lunch. I'm very curious and excited to know what she bought for me. I hope she likes the gift I have for her. I showed it to Rosie, and she thought it was beautiful.

Bella made me promise to limit my spending for her gift to under $200, so I told her the same rules would apply to her. She gets a bit weird sometimes when it comes to money, but I hope to rectify that soon.

Because, in just a few minutes, I plan to ask Bella to marry me - then what's mine will soon be hers, too. The engagement ring is next to me, sitting in the drawer of the night stand.

As for Bella's Christmas gift… well, I may have technically broken the rules a bit, because it's valued at more than $200 – I just didn't pay for it. I only paid for the engraving, professional cleaning, and a new velvet box to put it in.

The circular, platinum, Edwardian locket is about one inch in diameter. The front of the locket has a floral chased motif, embedded with Russian demantoid garnets. The locket had belonged to my late Grandmother, Elizabeth - although no one ever called her that. To everyone, she was simply known as Beth.

As the only living Masen heir, I inherited my grandmother's jewelry. Her son (my arsehole father) had already died the year before her, so the estate, the money, and the shares, all fell to me.

My Grandfather, Anthony Masen, gave the locket to his true love, Beth Pryor, their first Christmas Day together. It was also the day he'd proposed. They were happily married for over fifty years until his passing. Grandfather Anthony was so certain Beth was the one for him, that he'd had the back of the locket engraved with the letters BCM overlapping each other for Beth Claire Masen.

Rearrange the letters, and you get BMC - Bella Marie Cullen.

Sounds good, right?

The inner-back surface of the locket was blank, so I decided to have it engraved. It took me less than a minute to think of the perfect words.

"Bewba. Ded-Ded. Deddy!" Milly squeals loudly and wiggles, while pointing at the screen. I can see she's wearing her Christmas present from me - a small, gold bangle with teddy bears on it. I give her a small wave.

Sitting in front of Ali's laptop webcam, Emmett is holding Milly on his lap, and he has his hands cupped over her ears as he explains to Rosie - probably not for the first time - why he doesn't want to use the name Marie as a middle name for, Anne, their new daughter.

Meanwhile, the baby with the middle name in dispute is lying peacefully in Rosie's arms, oblivious to their debate.

"I mean… I like reading the Sex On Sundays blog just as much as you do, babe, and I'm thankful Marie inspired you to purchase the pure wand, but there's no way in Hell we're gonna middle name our innocent little girl after her," Emmett says.

A chorus of laughs and protests erupt from various points off screen.

"Bloody hell! We honestly didn't need to know that!" Carlisle's voice cries in alarm.

There is the unmistakable sound of Ali and Leah's squeals and snorting laughter, followed by Jazz yelling, "Whoa! Too much info, dude."

My cousin is a hypocrite.

Thanks to Jazz, I already know more than I ever cared to in regard to his wife's plans to get her nipples pierced once she's had the baby and finished breastfeeding.

At least what Bella and I imparted on the blog was anonymous.

Rosie's pouting, but Emmett is adamantly refusing to give in. "You got to choose Anne's first name, so I get to choose her middle name," Emmett continues.

Oh boy.

If only Rosie, Emmett and the rest of our friends and family knew who Marie really is. I look at Bella, raise an eyebrow and smirk. She responds the same way.

Who could have possibly predicted that the day Milly found and destroyed Bella's boring old vibe, would be the day we'd end up becoming Tony and Marie - secret bloggers for adult toys. Although that day does hold many more fond memories for me than just walking into the Lovers store.

That night was the first night Bella and I had made love, and I'd confessed my true feelings for her - although it was in a language she didn't understand at the time. This thought then leads me to recall her gaffe the other day at lunch, when she'd mixed up her Italian words and nearly caused the elderly restaurant owner to have an aneurysm.

I snicker at the memory and wonder if going to Italy for a honeymoon would be a good thing or a recipe for disaster.

"What's wrong with the name, Marie?" Charlie pipes in from somewhere in the background, breaking me out of my meandering thoughts. "Bella's middle name is Marie."

A curious expression crosses Rosie's face. "That's funny because Edward's middle-"

Bella makes a choking sound into her juice at the same moment my phone rings. She begins to cough uncontrollably, and I pat her on the back as I pick up my phone from the night stand. I can see the name on the screen - It's Alec.

"Hey Alec! Calling to wish me Merry Christmas?"

_"Merry Christmas, Edward, but that's not why I'm calling. I need your help, desperately."_

"What's up?"

_"Bob Carmichael and Rex Thomas are out of the race. Bob was arrested last night, and while he's on bail, he can't leave the state. Rex woke up at five this morning with chest pains and was taken to the hospital. He's about to undergo heart surgery to put a stent in."_

"Bugger."

_"Yeah. Bugger's right. Now, we can race without Bob, but Rex was our second certified radio operator, and without a second radio man, we can't race. The big problem is that our ongoing partnership with Breaking Dawn's corporate sponsor is in doubt for next year. The sponsor wants to see their logo on the mainsail come race day, so if we don't race this year, they'll pull the pin on us. It also means the children's charity we support will miss out on the extra $750,000." _

I can see where this conversation is leading.

I look over at Bella. Her coughing has abated and now she has a frown on her face.

Alec continues, _"So, what I guess I'm saying is - I really need you back on board."_

Bella's frown deepens.

Fuck.

She's gonna hate me.

I let out a big sigh.

My mind wanders back to Alec's impassioned speech last Friday morning at the Newborn Care Center.

"Breaking Dawn is much more than a supermaxi yacht competing in a high profile race for a coveted piece of silverware and a place in the history books. Breaking Dawn is a team consisting of talented, like-minded people, who are proudly dedicated to the task of aiding critically ill infants and children in their race against death. I know I speak on behalf of all my crew members today, when I say we feel honored to be able to contribute financially to such a worthy cause."

_"Edward?"_ Alec says, breaking the silence between us.

I let out another sigh.

"Okay, I'll do it."

_"Thank you, Edward. You have no idea how much this really means to me. I know this was a difficult decision for you to make, but as you are aware, there's more than just a race at stake here."_

"Yeah, I know. That's the only reason I'm agreeing to it."

I notice movement on the laptop screen, and I can see Ali. She's already scowling at me.

Right now, I could wring Ali's neck.

I did my best to get out of the race, but since making that call to Alec, I've been feeling like shit – like something's completely gone wrong. Something inside has been urging me, telling me, that I'm meant to be on that yacht.

Call it a gut feeling if you will.

And now this call from Alec, this desperate plea for my help, is further evidence in my mind that it's meant to be. A Shakespearian quote I recall from my days as a young teen at school pops into my mind.

_What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide._

In other words, our lives are determined by fate, and we must go along with what fate has predestined for us.

Alec continues to speak, telling me that since I had already canceled our hotel reservation in Sydney, we were more than welcome to stay with him and Athena in the second bedroom of their rental apartment. He says he'll also pay for our tickets for tonight's gala dinner, another fundraising event.

I hang up with a, "See you later, Alec," and turn to look at Bella.

Just as I'm about to explain everything - my reasons for changing my mind - the pregnant, pokerholic midget interrupts.

Ali doesn't let me get a word in edgeways.

I get on the defensive, and I start to attack, but Jazz appears on-screen and gives me a pleading look.

"Shut up! Shut up, both of you!" Bella yells. "Stop ruining Christmas more than it's already been ruined."

_Right…_

My jaw drops.

"Are you happy now?" Ali says spitefully.

"Ali, butt out," Jazz warns in a low tone.

Ignoring Ali and Jazz, I look only at Bella.

She looks as devastated as I feel.

Yeah… Christmas has undeniably been ruined, along with my plans to propose to her in front of our friends and family.

Suddenly, my chest feels so tight that I can't speak; I barely feel I can breathe.

All my plans for this morning - the beginning of the rest of our lives... gone.

Fuck.

I need air.

While still only wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt, I get up off the bed.

-oo0oo-

My face is in my hands, when I'm suddenly attacked by the lolloping tongues of Noah, Willow, and Tess.

I raise my head to find I'm sitting on the bottom porch step of Broomelea. Blinded by despair and rage, I can't actually recall leaving our suite, walking along the hallway, or leaving through the front door.

"Get back here!" Bryan yells at the three dogs from across the yard. They turn tail and scamper back to their owner's side. "Enjoying a little fresh air this fine Christmas morning, Edward?" he asks, standing before me a minute later.

I humorlessly snort. "Yeah… something like that. Thanks for our breakfast this morning, it was delicious. Bella and I thoroughly enjoyed it."

_Until everything turned to shit. Now I just want to throw up._

"Glad you liked it. You and Bella have plans for today?" Bryan asks. Noah plops down at my feet and rolls onto his back, demanding a rub.

Reaching forward, I rub Noah's belly. "Yeah, we're supposed to head over to her mum's place for a barbecue lunch. Actually, I'm glad I ran into you. We've had a change in plans, and I have to head into Sydney tonight. Um…"

I don't know if I should be presuming that Bella will come with me to Sydney or not.

_Should I cancel the rest of our stay here, or will Bella refuse to come with me and choose to stay close to her mum instead? _

Bryan's looking at me expectantly.

"Actually, I'll get back to you. I'm not sure if we'll need the room or not, but if it turns out we're both leaving, I'll pay for what we would have owed on the room and drop off the keys."

Bryan nods as if he understands things are a little rocky between Bella and me at the moment, and he tells me where I can find him, should we decide to leave today. He then turns and walks along the gravel path, and his three dogs run to catch up with him.

_I guess it's time to go back inside._

_Time to face the music._

-oo0oo-

**_2.00pm – Ren's House – Katoomba._**

"Another chop?" Phil asks, holding up a greasy piece of meat with a pair of tongs.

"Nah, I'll pass. I don't think I can fit another thing in - except dessert." I pat my tummy and grin.

Phil starts packing up the remaining lamb chops, sausages and meat patties while Bella starts covering the salads with cling film. She's doing too much with that right arm. I wish she'd rest it.

"I'm gonna take these in and load the dishwasher," Bella says, "then I'll bring out the cheesecake and pavlova."

"Thanks, honey," Ren says, as Bella retreats into the house. "Are you two okay?" she asks with concern as soon as the back door closes. "You both seem a little tense."

Suddenly, everything pours out in a jumbled mess.

I tell Ren about Ali's dream (without mentioning Ali's _other_ problems) and mention that it was Bella's over-the-top response to her dream that made me back out of the race. I tell her about the call from Alec this morning, and about how I felt I needed to be back in the race. I tell her about the fight Bella and I had and how my plan to propose had been ruined.

But I don't stop there.

I also tell her how Bella has been giving me the cold shoulder all morning. Three times I've tried to explain my reasons for going back on my promise, but each time she burst into tears, cutting me off. I admit to storming off in a huff each time it happened, feeling as though I was being emotionally blackmailed.

After unburdening my woes to Ren, she leans over and gives me a hug. After releasing me, I look at her expectantly, waiting to hear what words of wisdom she can offer me regarding her daughter.

"What?" she asks, appearing confused. She leans her body across the table to grab a handful of Christmas sweets from a bowl sitting in the center.

"Well… are you going to say anything?"

"Nope." Ren tosses a sweet into her mouth, and then after a few seconds of silence, she continues. "I'm not going to take sides, Edward. You and Bella are adults, fight your own battles. You don't need anyone else's opinion to sort your shit out."

I chuckle at her blunt statement and hands-off attitude.

If this had been me talking with my own mum, she'd immediately launch into _fix-it_ mode. She'd have us seated at the table, as though holding a team meeting, and then she'd listen to both sides before delivering her opinion, whether we liked it or not.

Ren's approach is… refreshing.

I smile. "Well, thanks for listening, anyway."

"That's okay. You two will be right once you both sit down and talk like adults."

"Thanks so much," I reply sarcastically.

"Any time, kiddo. I just hope you do come out of it alive. I think you'll make an awesome son-in-law."

"Is that your backhanded way of saying you approve?"

"Hell, yeah!" She grins.

"I just hope when the time comes, she'll forgive me and say yes."

"Look, I'm sure Bella will. She loves you, and that girl's been dying to get married and have kids since the day she got her first wetting baby doll. I'd say I'm surprised she hasn't gotten hitched yet, but all the other guys she dated were jerks."

I chuckle. "Yeah, that's the same thing Charlie said when I asked _him_ for his blessing."

"You mean to say Charlie didn't start polishing his guns in front of you? Wow… he must be mellowing in his old age."

Ren smiles and tosses another sweet into her mouth. We both turn when we hear the back door opening. Bella is holding a dessert platter at waist height, and Phil is carrying a desert platter in one hand, and a massive red bag in the other hand. The bag appears to be shaped like a Christmas stocking. Bella sets the platter down and heads back inside for bowls and spoons.

"What's in the bag?" I ask.

"All the presents from under the tree," Phil replies excitedly. "It's so nice out here; I thought we could open our gifts in the sunshine."

Bella returns with the bowls and cutlery and sits down at the table.

"Okay!" Ren says impatiently. "Since Edward is our token male here, he can play Santa."

"Token male?" I protest.

"Just pick up the damn bag and get with the gift giving, sonny," she replies.

I lean forward and take a present out of the bag. It's wrapped in red and gold paper. Reading the tag, I see it's from Phil. "Ren. This one's for you."

"Woot," she says excitedly, and then bounces up from her seat. I begin to pass her the present, but she plonks herself down on my knee instead. "Thank you, Santa," she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before jumping up again.

I laugh and grab another gift. This time it's wrapped in blue paper. "Phil," I announce, and just like her best friend before her, Phil runs around to the other side of the table to sit on my knee. She, too, thanks Santa and kisses me on the cheek before returning to her seat.

I look up, and I can see Bella smiling. It's a small smile, but it's a relief to see it there.

Lifting up the bag, I purposely look for my gift to Bella. Finding the small box wrapped in silver-colored paper with a green bow, I pull it out of the bag.

"Bella."

Bella reaches her hand out, but I refuse to give her the gift.

"Come and sit on Santa's knee, Miss Bella," I say, smiling and patting my leg.

She rolls her eyes, but stands and makes her way towards me.

When she sits down on my thigh, I wrap my arm around her waist and hand her the gift. "This one's from me. I hope you like it." I release the gift and kiss her on the lips. It's the first time I've been able to kiss her since before breakfast. Thankfully, she doesn't pull away. I don't know how I would have coped if she'd done that.

"Thank you," she says, and she attempts to move off my lap.

I wrap both arms around her waist and shake my head. "Nope. I want you to open it here with me."

Bella nods, and then one-handed, she begins to open the paper while I rest my chin on her left shoulder. In the background, I can hear Ren and Phil gushing over the gifts they've given to each other.

Bella gasps when she opens the velvet box. "Edward, it's… beautiful." Her fingers reach out to trace over the dark-green garnets that are flashing like fire in the sunlight. "Are these Emeralds?"

I shake my head. "No, they're garnets."

_Rare and expensive garnets._

"Wow, I didn't know garnets came in green." She then turns to look at me accusingly. "I thought we had a deal. I'm sure this locket cost more than $200." She scowls.

I then explain the locket's provenance.

"I already owned it, so I only paid for the box, cleaning, and engraving, which was under $200."

"That's… sneaky."

"You never said I couldn't bend the rules."

"I should have known," she says, and then shakes her head.

"Open it," I encourage.

She opens the locket and reads the words. "_Mia anima gemella_. My… err?" Bella then looks to me to translate the rest.

"Soul mate," I whisper next to her ear, "because that's what you are to me."

Bella swallows hard. "Thank you," she whispers, "it's too much, but thank you." She wraps her left arm around my neck to hug me.

"Believe me, it's not nearly enough," I say, thinking of the engagement ring sitting in the hidden pocket inside my suitcase. I bury my face into the side of her neck and embrace her tightly.

God. It's only been a few hours, but I've missed the freedom of being able to hold her. I sigh in contentment. I know she hasn't fully forgiven me, but I'll take what I can get for now.

"Come on!" Phil yells. "Some of us are old enough that we may never see another Christmas. There are more gifts in that bag to be given out. Get a move on, Swan, you're hogging Santa's knee."

Bella and I both chuckle, and I reluctantly let go of her. I expect her to go back to her seat, but instead she bends over and rummages around inside the bag. Pulling out a gift wrapped in green colored paper, she hands it to me and sits back on my thigh. Bella then pokes her tongue at Phil. I look at the tag and see it's from Bella to me.

I grin and tear into the paper. Seeing the words on the outside of the box, I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"I guess you really will have an excuse to use it after all," Bella says.

I open the box, and inside, there's a Suunto Yachtsman watch. This watch is basically a wrist-top computer for sailing races. It has a calendar, countdown timer, dual time display, digital compass, a barometer, a sailing timer, and it is of course, water resistant.

"Thank you. I love it," I say honestly before kissing her. She hugs me again, and I immediately put the watch on my wrist. "Hey! These watches are more than $200. In fact, even on sale, the cheapest I've seen them has still been over $300." I raise an accusing eyebrow.

"I only paid $200. Rosie chipped in with the rest. You're not the only one who can bend the rules."

I laugh, realizing now why Rosie only gave me a CD for Christmas. Being best friends, we've always bought each other gifts with much more thought and meaning behind them, so I was kind of surprised to be given such a generic present earlier in the day.

"It must be my turn again!" Ren announces.

I urge Bella to stand. Taking hold of her hand, I whisper into her ear that it's time to show Ren the bike. Bella nods and takes out the key from her pocket. The key fits into the padlock I attached to the shed doors to keep Ren out. Bella hands the key to Ren and her face lights up. We all walk over to the shed door.

Once inside, I lift the tarpaulin that's covering the bike. Ren gasps. "Oh, Edward!" She walks up to the bike and runs her hands over it.

"Sorry I didn't have time to get it sprayed. At this time of the year, they were all booked solid. I've got it booked in for after New Year's at this place." I hand Ren a business card for one of the local panel beaters. "Whatever color or designs you want, it's already paid for."

Bella passes Ren another key - the key to the ignition. Ren mounts the seat and starts the bike. After a few revs, the motor is purring like a pussy cat.

Turning off the motor, Ren dismounts and wraps me and Bella in a hug. "Thank you, both. You don't know how much this bike means to me."

-oo0oo-

**_3.30pm._**

With all the gifts given, and the outdoor dining setting cleared of food and dishes - it's time for us to go. I'm just thankful Bella is coming with me to Sydney.

We leave Ren and Phil's house, and it's not long before Bella falls asleep. Her sleep has been so restless lately. In the last couple of months, there have been several times I've caught her sleepwalking.

Initially, she tricked me, because the first time it happened, she got up out of bed and sat in the living room. I thought she was speaking to someone on the phone, as I could hear a one-sided conversation. Most of what she was saying sounded like an argument because Bella was giving them a right telling off.

I turned on the lamp and asked who she was talking to, and all that came out of her mouth was gibberish. I then realized she was still asleep. I gently guided her back to bed, and she had no recollection of the events the next morning. In fact, she accused _me_ of dreaming the whole thing.

I asked Ali about it, and she mentioned Bella had sleep walked once or twice when they were living together. Nowadays, I just lead her back to bed and don't bother to mention it in the morning. I can sometimes predict when it's going to occur, because it often happens when she's exhausted from work, or has a headache before going to bed... which is usually the first two days of having her period. I always make sure we stay at her place then, and not on my boat.

I drive in silence and think about our destination and plans for tonight. I'm looking forward to Alec's gala event at the aquarium. I love seeing Bella all dressed up, and I'm hoping that if her mood continues to improve, I'll find the right moment to ask her to be my wife. I still can't believe what happened this morning.

Talk about a right fuck up.

I need to come up with a new plan.

Maybe we can take a walk after dinner and find a picturesque place to sit.

Alternatively, I could ask Alec for the use of his limo and driver for an hour or so. We could drive somewhere with a view of the city lights, the Harbour Bridge, and the Opera House.

The idea of hiring one of the Sydney Harbour water Limousines then pops into my mind, and I resolve to look it up online to see if I can book one to pick us up from the pier near the aquarium.

Yeah. I like the sound of that.

-oo0oo-

**_Sydney Aquarium – Darling Harbour – 8.20pm._**

_Where in the hell is she?_

For the past twenty minutes, I've searched and searched through the aquarium, and I can't seem to find her. Not for the first time, I wish Bella had gone with the silvery colored dress rather than the black one. While the black dress does look amazing on her, it doesn't make it easy to find her in the dimly lit exhibits amongst all the other women wearing black.

I briefly wonder if Bella left and caught a taxi back to the apartment, but I push that thought and the accompanying wave of panic to the back of my mind. Surely, Bella wouldn't leave without telling me.

From the moment we got into the limo, she barely spoke to anyone, even Athena. I know she didn't exactly want to be here, but I needed her to see that Team Breaking Dawn is more than a race for us. I guess I deluded myself into thinking tonight's dinner would help to explain to Bella why I had to go back on my word; however, she wandered off forty minutes ago, a few minutes before the start of the speeches and video presentation.

After looking at my watch for what feels like the hundredth time, I dial Bella's number.

_"Hi. You've called Bella Swan. I'm not able to take your call right now, but leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you. Bye." _

Maybe she just went outside for some air.

I head for the main doors.

Looking at the people standing outside, I see a lot of smokers but no Bella.

I realize Bella wouldn't be caught dead hanging around with a bunch of smokers, so defeated, I walk to the end of the pier. Waiting there is the water limo.

"Hey," I say to the driver.

"Hey," he responds. "Are you Edward Cullen?"

I nod.

He looks at his wristwatch. "You're running twenty minutes late. You only booked me for a half hour spin around the harbour, and I have another important customer after you."

"Yeah, sorry - change in plans. $250 was the quote, right?"

The driver nods.

Pulling out my wallet, I hand over the money. "I'm really sorry for wasting your evening."

He takes the money, and I turn to walk away.

"What do you want me to do with these?" he asks.

I turn and look down at the water limo. A massive bouquet of 108 red and white roses is taking up one of the seats. A bottle of champagne is sitting in an ice bucket.

"Are you married or in love?" I ask.

He nods and smiles. "Been married to the same woman for thirty-two years," he says proudly. "In fact, Kerry, my wife, is my next customer. I plan on taking her over to Looking Glass Bay. My oldest boy is setting up candles and a picnic table for us at Banjo Paterson Park. That's where we met."

"Congratulations on your long and happy marriage. How about you take the flowers and champagne and give them to your wife."

He looks at me in incredulity. "You're kidding me, right?" he says. "There must be over $400 worth of roses here, and this ain't cheap bubbly either."

_Actually, there's over $500 worth of roses, but who's counting. _

"Take 'em."

"Are you sure?"

_Somehow, I don't think I'll have much use for them tonight. Someone may as well get some enjoyment out of them. _

"Yeah. Enjoy the rest of your evening with your wife." I start to walk away again.

"Hey!"

I can hear the driver walking after me, so I turn around to face him.

"Here," he says, grabbing my shirt front pocket and stuffing some money into it. "Take it back. I know it doesn't cover the roses and bubbly, but now I feel wrong for making you pay for a trip you didn't take."

"Okay, whatever."

"Good luck, mate," he says shaking my hand, "and Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," I say glumly, and then I head back to the aquarium.

-oo0oo-

I slump down in my seat, upset that my plans to propose to Bella have gone pear-shaped once again. Alec, sensing my sour mood, turns away from Athena to speak with me.

"Is everything okay, lad?"

"Just peachy," I say sarcastically.

He raises an eyebrow. "Did you find Bella?"

I shake my head, and he frowns at me with concern. Alec is the only one who had insights into my plans to propose to Bella tonight. I had told him what had happened this morning, and he'd felt guilty. He then helped me to arrange everything for tonight by making the calls for me in private, while I played cheat with his granddaughter.

Athena turns from her conversation with Megan to tell me about something, when from the corner of my eye, I see Bella heading towards the bar.

I signal to her, but she's not paying attention. Bella's walk is a little off-kilter, and I wonder how much she's had to drink.

Standing up, I call out to her. I know she heard me because her shoulders hunched a little, just like a kid who got caught with her hand in the biscuit barrel. Leaving her glass at the bar, she turns and walks out of the room.

"Excuse me," I say to everyone sitting at the table, and I get out of my seat, so I can go to Bella.

I follow her, but she shoves her way into the women's lav before I can catch up to her. For someone who's one-armed and three-sheets-to-the-wind, she's suddenly fast and steady on her feet.

"Bollocks!" Standing outside of the women's lav, I growl in frustration.

God, I love her, but sometimes she really does my head in. She's obstinate - just like her father, Charlie.

_If she'd just fucking listen for five minutes! _

I have half a mind to barge into the loos to confront her, but she'll probably just cry again.

Leaning against the wall by the door, I decide to wait her out. She can't stay in there all bloody night.

I look at my watch. It's time for us to go anyway; I've got to be up at five tomorrow, and I doubt I'll get much sleep. I'll have to ask the next woman who goes in, to tell Bella we're going.

I try her phone again and get the same old voice message.

_Why the hell is Bella's phone off? Normally, that thing is glued to her hand day and night._

The lav door opens, and Bella steps out. She's not alone – she's with Megan's daughter.

"Bella!" I realize then that Dani is crying. "What's wrong with Dani?" I ask. Dropping down to one knee, I search Dani's face for signs of pain, fear, or illness. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The next thing I know, I have Dani clinging to me like there's no tomorrow. Bella explains that Dani is worried about Megan sailing to Hobart.

_God, these two make a right pair._

I reassure Dani that all will be okay, and by the time we get back to the table, I even manage to make her smile. For some reason, Dani sees me as some kind of hero who is now in command of looking after her mum and granddad. It's kind of sweet but hilarious too. Alec and Megan have both been sailing much longer than I have, but according to Dani, that means nothing. Kids are so funny. I can't wait to have a bunch of them myself… well, with Bella's help, of course.

_That's if she'll ever forgive me and let me propose._

Looking over at Bella, I notice her eyes are starting to droop. Clearly, it's time for us to leave. Taking hold of her hand, to make sure she doesn't take off on me again, I remind Alec that we have an early start in the morning.

Although it's a short drive back to McMahon's Point, Bella falls asleep with her head on my shoulder. Alec helps me to get her up the steep stairs and into the apartment.

In our room, I lay Bella down on the bed and carefully remove her shoes, dress, and bra, leaving her in her knickers. I cautiously position her right arm on a thin pillow and pull the covers up to her shoulders. Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I join Alec and Athena in the living room for a quiet cup of tea before bed.

-oo0oo-

**_December 26_****_th_****_ – Boxing Day – 5.00am – Eight hours until the race begins._**

Showered, dressed and packed to go, I sit down on the edge of the bed next to Bella.

"Bella," I say quietly, so as not to startle her awake.

No response.

"Bella." A little louder this time.

Bella grabs the pillow and pulls it over her head.

I sigh. She's hard to wake up at the best of times, but with such a restless sleep last night, she's bound to be even more difficult.

I lift the pillow off her head. "Bella!"

"Mmmphf. Give it back," she mumbles.

Speaking directly into her ear, I say, "No. Wake up; I need to talk to you. This is important."

"M'kay. Listening."

"Bella, are you honestly listening? Your eyes are shut."

"Mmm listening."

"Are you sure?"

"Un-huh. Juz restin' my eyes."

With a big sigh, I tell Bella all about Breaking Dawn's sponsorship and the issue of the children's charity losing out on an extra $750,000 if we don't cross the finish line.

"So do you understand now; why Team Breaking Dawn has to race?" I ask her.

"Mmhmm. Save babies."

"Do you forgive me?"

"S'pose."

"Are you really awake?"

"Mmhmm. Babies. I want to have your babies," she mutters.

I chuckle. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Moving off the bed, I open my suitcase and reach into the hidden pocket, to pull out Bella's engagement ring.

_Should I just propose now?_

"Bella, I-"

Suddenly, a sound like wood being sawn erupts from Bella's throat.

I turn around and look at the beautifully disheveled, half-naked woman, that I want to make my wife.

She's snoring loudly like a bloody buzz saw.

Sighing in defeat, I place the ring back in its box and zip it inside my jacket pocket. I lean in to kiss Bella goodbye on the lips at the same moment she chooses to breathe out.

_Oh, holy hell! Her breath could slay dragons. _

_Seriously, how much garlic and herb cheese did she eat last night?_ _Phew_.

I kiss her on the forehead instead. "I love you, and I'll see you later," I whisper against her skin.

Bella, Athena, and Dani will be coming to see us off at the marina, so maybe it's best that I wait to propose when she's more awake.

_And has brushed her teeth_… _and perhaps eaten a packet of Tic-Tacs._

I kiss Bella on the forehead again and gently close the door behind me as I leave the room.

When I walk into the dining room, I see Megan and Dani have already arrived. Athena is busily preparing English Muffins for Dani's breakfast.

"Ready for breakfast with the crew?" Alec asks.

Jealously eyeing Dani's English muffins that are smothered in plum jam, and Athena's steaming hot coffee, I nod, and then stifle a yawn behind my hand. "Yeah, let's go. I'm starving."

As Alec, Megan, and I travel towards the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia, I try to come up with another way of proposing to Bella.

-oo0oo-

**_8.30am – Cruising Yacht Club of Australia._**

After breakfast, Breaking Dawn was randomly chosen by the race committee as one of the ten yachts required to undergo a spot check to audit our safety gear. As we expected, we passed with flying colors. By the time we packed everything back into the yacht, it was time to attend the mandatory weather briefing in the club rooms.

The room is packed, and there are members of the press everywhere as we make our way towards a group of empty seats.

"Good morning, all," says the Bureau of Meteorology's regional director, as he moves to stand behind the podium at the front of the room.

A map of Australia's east to southeastern seaboard appears on the screen behind him. "Today's briefing will be similar to the one from a couple of days ago, but we'll be focusing more on the latest weather updates. For the most part, it's been fairly consistent, with what we've been saying over the last three or four days still holding true…"

Initially, there are few surprises. As the bureau previously predicted, the fleet will start with west to northwesterly winds at 10 to 15 knots on a slight swell as we make our way out of Sydney heads.

The conditions aren't exactly conducive for breaking records.

"You just might get to spend a little more time around each other than last year," the meteorologist muses to the competitors in the room, and some of them chuckle in amusement at his remark.

"By late afternoon, a south to southeasterly, with winds of around 20 to 25 knots will hit the fleet about here," he says, pointing to the map. "Winds will freshen to 30 to 35 knots with a two to three-meter swell, ahead of a southerly by midnight, with gusts of 40 to 45 knots and a chance of thunderstorms and hail."

This raises some eyebrows among the crews, particularly those on the smaller yachts. A southern front with gusts this strong was not reported yesterday. It seems things are going to get rough.

The detailed briefing continues, and while the weather conditions on day three probably won't apply to the supermaxis, we still listen.

"…by daybreak on day three, winds will moderate back to a south - southwesterly of approximately 10 to 15 knots. For those heading into southern Bass Strait, expect 5 to 10 knot winds ahead of a weak front when 15 to 25 knot winds will swing back to a northwesterly later in the day. At around midnight, heading into day four…"

Alec turns to speak quietly to us. "It's a good thing we'll already be up the Derwent. It sounds as though the paddock is going to end up as one giant parking lot for the little guys," he mutters.

Megan and I snicker at his remark.

The Jekyll and Hyde nature of the notorious Bass Strait - affectionately known as 'the paddock' - is what keeps the competitors coming back, year after year.

Each race is a wholly different animal from the year before. There are some years that the shallow strait, with its opposing currents, can be treacherous, and other years, it's frustratingly calm.

After the briefing, we head outside.

It's a carnival atmosphere around the marina, and we walk around for a while to soak it all in, as well as taking the opportunity to check out some of the competition.

Already, there is a flotilla of spectator craft out on Sydney Harbour, and hundreds of thousands of people are lining the shores for a grandstand view. Scores of helicopters buzz overhead - sending aerial images of this great event around the world.

News spreads around the marina about a couple of late withdrawals from the race; some for not meeting the stringent safety requirements, others for technical issues. The number of yachts slated to start in the 68th running of the Sydney-Hobart currently stands at 86, with over 1000 crew members participating.

We get back to the yacht by ten-thirty, in time to help put the supplies on board. According to Alec, the driver should be bringing Athena, Dani and Bella sometime in the next half hour.

This gives me some time to refine what I want to say, as I venture to propose a fourth time to Bella.

-oo0oo-

**_12.00pm – One hour before the race begins._**

_Un-fucking-believable._

"All crew members on deck," Alec yells, after giving us an inspiring address and sending up prayers, asking God to keep us all safe and in one piece. "Sorry, mate. We can't delay," he says, patting me on the back as I look longingly at the marina for any signs of Bella.

We had been informed there was an accident at the end of the Cross City Tunnel, and traffic was backed up for miles. It was likely they were still stuck in traffic.

I place my hand over the ring box in my pocket.

Making certain that everyone except Alec is seated, I cast off the bow and stern lines and bring in the fenders. I'm the last to be seated, and I decide to sit at the stern next to Megan, as the on board motor churns over. I look down at what Megan is doing. Balanced on her lap is a piece of cardboard, cut out from the side of one of the supply boxes. She's writing a message with a black sharpie. She's making a sign.

_I love you Dani. I'll see you soon xxx_

"Do you really think she'll get here in time to see it?" I ask glumly.

"I have to get a message to Dani. Even if I have to hold it up to one of those news helicopters up there," she replies.

I nod, wishing I too had a way of getting a message to the one I love; to ask Bella the question I've been trying to ask her for the last 28 hours.

As Alec maneuvers us out of dock, I take Megan's sign out of her hands. "May I?" I ask, turning the piece of cardboard over and holding my hand out for the sharpie.

"Be my guest." Megan smiles in amusement and slaps the pen into my outstretched palm. She turns and dashes for the cabin.

_Hmmm. What to write?_

The idea comes to me in a flash.

_Bella Swan  
>108 Roses?<em>

"What does that mean?" Megan asks, sitting next to me once again as I draw a crappy picture of what's meant to be a rose underneath the words. I note she has a pair of binoculars in her hands.

"I'm asking Bella to marry me. I was hoping to ask her before we left."

"Awww. Hey, look! I think that's them on the end of the pier."

I quickly hand the sign to Megan and grab the binoculars. Aiming my focus at the pier, I can see Bella, Dani, and Athena waving at us.

"It's them. Hold up the sign!"

Megan stands and holds the sign over her head, as I stand and wave back at the three girls on the pier. I see Athena lift a pair of binoculars to her own eyes. I point to Megan's sign, and Athena nods and quickly hands the binoculars to Dani. She then bends down low to allow the little girl to sit on her shoulders.

"Dani's seen the sign!" I inform Megan. "She's really excited, too." I wave at them, and they wave back.

"Your turn," Megan says, and she passes me the sign as I hand over the binoculars. I hold up my side of the sign and pray Bella can still see it and understand what I'm trying to say. There are boats all over the place, temporarily interrupting our view of the pier.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"She's looking at her phone; I think."

"That's good. It means she's seen the sign."

My heart is hammering inside of my chest at a thousand beats a minute, and my stomach is sitting somewhere in the vicinity of my throat.

"Oh! She's yelling something… Yes! She's saying '_Yes'_ over and over. She's ecstatic, Edward!" Megan starts jumping up and down. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you!" she squeals, before giving me a side-on hug.

I can't stop smiling.

_She said, "YES!"_

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN – What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide. (_3 Henry VI_, 4.3.60), King Edward IV to Warwick_**

**_Demantoid Garnets_****_ - the rarest and most valuable of the garnets. The demantoid garnet is said to give vitality and helps to prevent fears, insecurity, and feelings of loneliness._**

**_Mia anima gemella = My soul mate._**

**_Red and white roses = Unity. 108 roses = Marry me?_**


	142. Chapter 142

**_EPOV_**

**_The starting line – 12.58pm._**

The wake created by our competitor's yachts, as they tack and gybe during the pre-race maneuvers, causes the water beneath us to heave and churn like a washing machine.

Anxiously, we're anticipating the cannon's fire from the committee boat.

"Two minutes to go," Stuart, the tactician and second helmsman shouts. "Alec, we gotta tack in about a minute."

"Just relax. I'm well aware of what's happening," Alec calmly says from his position at the wheel.

"I'm heading down," Megan informs her father.

"Just be ready for anything, okay?"

She nods, and then heads below decks, so she can operate the nerve center of the yacht – the communication hub and navigation center.

"One minute thirty!" Stuart yells.

"Prepare to come about. Ready tack?" Alec asks.

"Ready," we all shout back.

We're all in our designated positions as Alec calls out, "Helms a-lee," and immediately we perform our tasks for a starboard tack, setting us up for a straight run at the starting line. "Lee-oh." If Alec and Stuart have timed it right, we should cross the line close to the pin and right on the cannon.

"Thirty seconds," Stuart yells.

There's about fifteen feet between us and our nearest rivals. _Shure Thing, _a Reichel Pugh 63 footer, is on our port side, and _Avidity, _a Volvo open 60 is on our starboard side_._

Alec yells, "Sheets on, full speed; let's go!" followed by, "Darren! Ease main… ease main… ease main."

In unison, we all begin the countdown as we near the starting line, "Five… four… three… two… ONE!"

The cannon fires and two seconds later we cross the line for a clear start.

The great race has begun.

-oo0oo-

"Trim up! Trim up!" Alec calls.

Adjustments are made, and the telltales on the sides of the sail are blowing horizontally, indicating the sail has been properly trimmed.

Wicked Oryza_, _a Reichel Pugh 100, won last year's event, and already they are ahead of the fleet. It's the odds-on favorite to be the first out of Sydney heads.

After a few port tacks to clear our air, we quickly make our way to the first turning mark where we round just behind Wicked Oryza, with Outer Limits, a 100-foot Farr designed yacht overlapped to windward.

Setting a course for the outer turning mark, we prepare the A4 asymmetric spinnaker as we leave the harbour and head south.

At the second mark, we manage to shake off Outer Limits_,_ but we're unable to pass Wicked Oryza prior to hoisting the spinnaker for our journey to Hobart.

As predicted, Wicked Oryza is the first yacht out of Sydney heads, taking out the first honor of the race - the Jack Rooklyn Memorial Trophy. Breaking Dawn chased hard, coming in second, with Outer Limits close behind.

Once we're out on the open ocean, the breeze increases to a steady 20 knots, and we have a pod of dolphins off our port bow to keep us company.

-oo0oo-

**_7.30pm._**

For our grinders, trimmers, mastmen, pitmen/ runners, and bowmen, we have a watch schedule that involves three teams of crewmen who are rotated - four hours on and two hours off.

The three helmsmen work to a two hours on and four hours off schedule. Our navigator, Megan, is on watch as required. Grant, or _Media-man_ as we've nicknamed him, is a TV media personality who is filming the event for a national breakfast show. He's been following us around and asking each of us a barrage of questions while documenting the race with a portable digital movie camera. He's been communicating with race fans via Twitter and Facebook and has generally been getting in the way.

Together, Megan and Grant were responsible for helping to prepare our meals using the small oven in the galley. This evening's dinner consisted of toasted sandwiches and a hearty, reheated beef and vegetable stew, as well as steaming cups of coffee that were greatly appreciated.

After dinner, the watch schedule begins, and we go into the first evening of the race in the company of Wicked Oryza_, _Outer Limits, and Bartleby, with Aces High_, _an impressive Volvo open 70_,_ in sight on our bow.

About an hour ago, the south-southwesterly breeze picked up, and the wind is right on our nose at 20 to 25 knots with occasional gusts of 30 knots. We've performed around sixteen sail changes so far in the race along with numerous tacks and gybes to maintain optimum course through the oncoming two to three-meter swell.

So far, the journey to Hobart has been anything but plain sailing.

At about 3.00pm, we were sailing upwind when we came to a sudden stop, and almost as if in slow motion, anyone who was standing up fell down. It would've been comical to anyone else watching, except for the fact we were in the middle of a tacking duel with Wicked Oryza at the time.

We were uncertain as to whether we had a shark, whale, or sunfish stuck on our canting keel as there was so much blood in the water behind the yacht. We canted the keel, and then we had to stop and back-up to shake it loose, losing valuable time and second place.

It wasn't pretty. The sunfish was as large as a VW Beetle, and it had almost been sliced in half.

Out here, the innocent sunfish bask close to the surface, and they are numerous. We've seen one at least every ten to fifteen minutes, so it wasn't a matter of _if_ we were going to hit one; it was when, how hard, and how much damage it would inflict below the waterline.

An hour later, the bow of the yacht leaped over a wave, and Matty, one of our bowmen, took an unscheduled swim when he became airborne and fell overboard. Thankfully, he was wearing his safety harness. He remained tethered while he was dragged through the water until we could slow down, but as we were hoisting him back on board, two stanchions on the port bow were damaged.

Currently, we are running fifth for line honors, but on IRC handicap, I have no idea. Megan will probably know the details.

Already, there have been a few retirements from the race.

Third Eye_,_ a Sparkman & Stephens 34, got bitch-slapped by a whale on its bow, and now it's in need of a major nose job. Another yacht, a Cookson 50 by the name of Ragdoll, retired with a damaged canting keel after tangling with not one, but two sunfish within an hour of each other.

The lumpy, wave train ride over the swollen sea has seen two other yachts, both with young and relatively inexperienced crews, retiring. One yacht retired with _mal de mer_ – common sea-sickness with severe dehydration. Another yacht had to call a mayday because a crewman had sustained serious head injuries during a crash-gybe that saw him struck in the face by the boom. He's lucky he's not dead, but apparently he'll be eating through a straw for weeks.

Patting me on the back, Alec says, "It's time for us to go in, lad. Well done."

Dave, the second primary grinder, takes my place, and I head below decks. My arms are tired, and my face is freezing. The berth is calling my name. In the head, I can hear Grant chundering his dinner. I laugh to myself, realizing I've just won $50.

Before the race began, we had all placed bets on what time Media-man would succumb to seasickness. I had been generous, predicting that he'd last until just after dinner. To his credit though, he wasn't the first to start losing it. That honor went to one of our mastmen, Julian, who has the dubious nickname of _Juicer_. Even now, Juicer looks a bit green around the gills as he collapses onto the bottom bunk without bothering to take off his wet-weather gear.

After stripping off my gloves, beanie, PFD with harness, outer wet-weather jacket and pants, middle layer salopettes, and boots, I fall face down onto the narrow pipe bunk. I'm now only wearing my base-layer trousers and long-sleeved top. Groaning from fatigue as I roll over, I tie myself in with a lee-cloth, so I don't accidentally fall out of bed if we leap off a wave.

I yield to sleep the second my head hits the pillow.

-oo0oo-

**_8.00pm - New South Wales coast - 32 nautical miles off Jervis Bay. _**

I feel as though I've just closed my eyes when I hear the urgent call.

"All hands on deck!"

Scrambling out of the bunk, I quickly don my beanie, boots, wet-weather jacket, PFD and harness - forgoing my wet-weather pants, salopettes, and gloves because there's no time.

It's daylight savings in Australia, and as I exit the cabin behind Alec, I can see it's twilight, and the rain is falling lightly. I'm about to look at my watch when I realize there's a strange sound coming from my left.

It sounds like a thousand screams, and I turn to look.

Sitting 300 yards off our starboard side is something that would make most grown men want to piss their pants in fear.

I, however, manage to keep it in, which is a blessing, especially since I left my wet-weather pants and salopettes below decks.

"Fuck me!" I mutter in awe, on seeing the magnificent but terrifying obstacle Mother Nature has thrown at us. There is a flash of lightning, which instinctively makes us all duck our heads, immediately followed by an ear-splitting crack that sounds like a gunshot.

"Shit, that sounded close," says Greg, our aft grinder, as he exits the cabin behind me.

Alec has to shout over the shrieking noise in order to be heard. "Megan, how long has that thing been out there?"

"We've been trying to outrun it for the last ten minutes," Megan yells. "At one point, it was behind us and heading away, but it turned directly on us and got bigger. Then the wind dropped."

We all look up and see that our sails are luffing uselessly. It seems as though all of the air has been sucked out of the atmosphere to feed the massive tornadic waterspout that has a base width somewhere between four and five hundred meters. The suction created by the sheer size of the monstrous vertical vortex is dragging the yacht in towards it.

"The compass indicates it's locked onto us. Unless it turns again, it's gonna hit us in a few minutes. We're a sitting duck," says Iain, our tactician and third helmsman.

Alec yells, "Bare poles!" Quickly followed by, "Megan, put out a PAN-PAN distress signal and then turn off all the electronics. Find the grab bag and strap it to your wrist. We'll need the handheld VHF radio to issue a mayday if we have to abandon ship or the electrics get fried by lightning. Keith and Nick… get below and flood the ballasts. We need to be as heavy in the water as possible."

The two pit-men and Megan charge below decks. The rest of the crew rushes to lower the sails, so we can lash them down.

It takes eight of us just to tie down the mainsail because it's bucking like a damn bronco. Just as we are applying the canvas cover, Johnno, our genoa and headsail trimmer, yells out in pain. I turn to see what his problem is, but soon enough l find out for myself, as I too hiss in pain when something hard strikes the back of my hand.

Hailstones, some of them the size of golf balls, have started to pelt down, tossed out by the watery demon that is now only 200 yards away.

"Everyone below deck, now!" Alec yells. "And batten down the hatches."

The hailstones make pinging sounds when they strike metal and thwacking sounds as they hit carbon fiber. Scattered all around us are spheres of ice that are rolling around like marbles. The crew starts to head below. Iain remains at the first helm, but I notice Alec is still standing at the second helm.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get below with the crew," I yell.

Alec shakes his head. "Someone has to stay to help Iain steer us out of that thing if we go in."

"Tell Stuart to stay," I insist, but he shakes his head again in refusal. Just then, I'm hit by a large hailstone on my right cheek, and it feels as though I've been punched in the face. My hand flies up to soothe the pain. "Son of a bitch!" Pulling my hand away, I see spots of blood, but they are quickly washed away by the rain that begins to pour down.

Thank fuck it wasn't my eye.

"Get below, Edward. I'm the skipper, and that's an order!"

Gritting my teeth in frustration because I'm about to disobey a direct order, I head for the cabin.

For a veteran racer, Alec's not thinking straight. He's not wearing a PFD or even a harness. There's nothing to tether him to the deck. He's not wearing his outer wet-weather gear either, so he probably doesn't even have a personal 406Hz EPIRB on him.

Slamming the hatch shut, I head back to Alec, who looks at me none too pleased. "Are you disobeying my orders, Cullen? I said get down below. Now!" he yells.

The tornadic waterspout sounds like a jet engine in my ears. I can hardly even hear myself speak, so I have to shout my answer into his ear as I step behind him. "In your hurry you've forgotten your safety gear, you daft bastard! If you get swept away, Dani will never forgive me."

He at least has the decency to stop arguing when he realizes I'm right.

Taking the double harness tether out of my pocket, I shackle the three-foot tether clip to a jackline that runs along the deck from bow to stern. I then shackle the second clip to my harness. Taking the six-foot tether, I wrap it around Alec's body, crisscrossing in a figure eight over his chest, shoulders, and waist, in the hope that it will evenly distribute the load. I then shackle the third clip to my harness and pray that if it needs to, it will be strong enough to prevent the two of us from falling overboard.

Standing in close behind him, we both hold onto the wheel for stability.

There is another eardrum shattering crack of lightning, and my nostrils are hit by the scent of ozone in the air. It feels as though every hair on my body is standing on end.

Once we are within feet of the monster, the three of us shout through gritted teeth, preparing ourselves to face the onslaught.

As the yacht begins to enter the funnel, we lose sight of the bow. We are violently jerked sideways and knocked down to our knees as the yacht tilts seventy degrees to port. Both Alec and I lose our grip on the wheel, and together we slip and slide across the deck. Kicking my leg out and bracing it against a stanchion, I manage to stop our momentum. Alec then grabs on to one of the lifelines.

Looking up, I can see Iain has his arm wrapped around the wheel, and one of his legs is dangling in the air.

Wind and water pricks at the skin of my hands and face like a million needles, and the occasional golf ball sized hailstone gives us a belting. I can barely open my eyes, but once we are fully engulfed by the supercell, the yacht quickly rights itself.

Turning my head, I see a small fish lying on the deck. It looks to be frozen, partially encased in ice. Not one to miss an opportunity, I grab the fish, and then shove it into my jacket pocket.

Inside the belly of the beast, we lose all sense of time. We are bathed by an eerie blue light, and I briefly glance up through the black, hollow vortex that's hypnotically swirling about like smoke in the air. Every now and then, I catch glimpses of clear sky and stars above.

With difficulty, Alec and I manage to scramble back to the second helm before the rear wall of the twister grips the yacht.

Having learned our lesson, we wrap our arms through the wheel, enabling us to stay in our place as the yacht tilts ninety degrees and capsizes. The masthead hits the water, but the yacht starts to right itself, as soon as we pass through the backdoor.

Thankfully, the mast seems to have remained intact.

As we become upright, a ton of water unexpectedly sluices across the deck, knocking the three of us off our feet.

And then there is a strange calm, an almost deafening silence.

Alec, Iain, and I frantically turn our heads to look for the waterspout, only to find it's vanished into thin air.

"Did that really just happen?" Alec asks. "Where the hell did it go?"

"Fucked if I know." I start laughing in relief.

"Jesus, that was hairy. What a rush!" Iain says, rolling over and collapsing onto his back.

"Nah. That was just a fucking breeze," I joke. I then pull the fish out of my pocket and dangle it in front of Alec's face. "See? I even had time for a spot of fishing."

I can feel vibrations through my chest from Alec's back, as he too starts chuckling.

The hatch flies open, and Megan is the first one out. "Dad! Are you okay?" She rushes forward and drops down to her knees to hug her father.

"I'm fine, darl. A few bruises here and there from the hail, but I'm otherwise okay - thanks to Edward. He's a soft landing."

"Hey? Who are you calling soft, old man? If anyone's soft here, it's you! You're soft in the head if you think I'd leave you out here without a fucking harness."

Megan releases her father from her embrace and turns her attention to me. Noting that her dad is still strapped to my chest, she says, "Edward… I think you can stop spooning my dad now."

Between giggling at our awkward position and chastising her father for forgetting his safety gear, Megan helps me to release the tethering straps. The tether is completely stuffed. The metal clip is stretched, and the stitching on the webbing is coming apart – but at least it did the job.

Once Alec and I are free from each other, we stand, and he turns to give me a hug, clapping me on the back. "Thanks," he says. "I probably owe you my life." And then in an instant, he's back to the business of being the skipper. "Megan, go down and check the electronics and send a message to JBW. Let them know we're all right."

As Megan heads below, she passes Andy, our second tactician and mastman, who is the last to leave the cabin. "Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," his voice booms. "We were only in that thing for all of a minute, but according to my GPS, it's set us back half a kilometer."

Groaning and grumbling because we've lost our place in the fleet once again, we all move to our positions to hoist the sails as quickly as we can. I still have adrenaline coursing through my veins, so all the exhaustion and soreness I felt before has temporarily been banished.

Thankfully, the sails are undamaged, so we begin our journey south… again.

According to the read-outs, the water temperature is currently twelve degrees Celsius. However, with the wind-chill factor, it means my legs and arse are absolutely freezing because my base-layer pants are saturated. I think my balls have crawled so far into my body that they're fighting for real estate with my tonsils.

"Dad! JBW is asking us for help," Megan yells out. "They want us to respond to a mayday call."

"Iain, take the wheel, mate." Alec heads below and a moment later he reappears carrying a pair of binoculars. Looking over our starboard side, he raises the binoculars to his eyes.

Megan's head pops out of the cabin. "Can you see it?" she asks.

A red distress flare shoots up into the sky. It's about a nautical mile away.

"Tell JBW we'll be there shortly," Alec says. He takes the helm from Iain and then calls out, "Prepare to come about. Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Helms a-lee. Lee-oh."

"What's going on?" Grant asks Megan.

"We weren't the only vessel terrorized by the waterspout. Before it hit us, it hit another boat, and it turned turtle. The boat dismasted, and its keel has been ripped off. Two adults managed to cling onto the upturned hull, but the other two occupants are believed to be trapped inside the hull; an elderly man and an eight-year-old boy."

"So it's obviously not a part of the race then?" he asks.

"No it's not, but we're closer than any other vessels, so we've been asked to help. It's going to take a Police rescue craft about an hour to reach them, but they don't think they have that much time. It may sink at any moment." Megan heads back into the cabin.

"But what about the race?" Grant asks.

"Fundamental rule one-point-one of race sailing," I quote, passing by him. "A yacht is to give all possible help to any person or vessel in danger."

I, too, decide to head below decks, so I can look for some dry pants.

"Won't that place you further back in the fleet though?" he asks, following me down into the cabin, camera in hand.

I shake my head. "We'll be granted redress because we followed rule one-point-one."

Finding some dry base-layer pants, I toss them down onto the bunk and proceed to take off my wet-weather jacket.

_I really need to take a piss._

"What's redress?" Grant asks.

Making my way to the head, I explain the rules pertaining to redress, because Media-man is still tagging along behind me like an annoying puppy.

"But how do we even know if the old man and the kid are still alive?" he asks as I duck around the privacy curtain.

Unbelievably, he follows me, and he's still filming.

"We don't," I reply gravely as I stand in front of the lav, hoping he'll take the hint.

"But-"

"Look… do you mind? This is something of a private moment, you know?" I say as I struggle to pull down my cold, saturated pants.

While I don't normally have an issue with taking a piss in front of other blokes, (because like most guys, I've had to use a public urinal or watered a tree a time or twenty) I don't want to be filmed while I'm doing it, or have to explain why I'm gonna sit down like a girl.

Right now, my hands are fucking freezing. I'm worried that if I actually touch myself, my dick will either crawl up inside of me, or snap off like an icicle. Furthermore, the swell seems to have picked up again, and the yacht could leap over a wave at any time.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Grant says sheepishly, and he backs away, leaving me in peace.

-oo0oo-

I can hear a commotion going on above as soon as I've finished my business in the head. We must have made excellent time in order to have come upon the stricken vessel so soon. Forgetting about changing into dry clothes, I throw on my wet-weather jacket and decide to go outside to see if I can lend a hand.

The crew performs a gybe to allow us to approach downwind from the upturned catamaran. This is to ensure we don't ensnare our keel or rudder on any submerged rigging. Lights are aimed at the turtled hull of the nine meter vessel, and we can see two exhausted adults treading water. Although they are wearing harnesses, they have no PFDs. They frantically wave to us and call out.

A waterproof torch is tossed to the two men, followed by a heaving line with two MOB slings. Once they are attached to the slings, we all help to bring the men aboard. Grant has his camera held up to his eye, capturing the rescue effort that is hampered by the waves.

Jeff, our mid-bowman, and Chris, our mid-grinder, are our advanced life-support members, as both men are doctors. Several crew members help to carry the exhausted victims below decks to get them out of the cold and to allow our doctors to check for injuries and then treat them for hypothermia.

One of the victims informs us that his father and son are probably trapped in the double cabin of the forward starboard hull, and he begs us to rescue them before the vessel sinks.

"I'll do it," Grant volunteers. "What?" he asks, when those of us on deck turn to look at him dubiously.

"Actually, it's likely that Grant _is_ the best one for the task," Alec pipes up.

We then learn that freediving photography and spear fishing are two of Grant's hobbies.

"How long can you hold your breath?" Andy asks.

"Three and a half, sometimes even four minutes," Grant answers proudly.

We all nod or raise a brow, suitably impressed with his answer.

"Okay, let's do this," Grant says. "It looks like we don't have long."

I go in search of the grab bag. I'm fairly certain there is a diving mask in there. As soon as I find it, we all set about ensuring that Grant will return to us safe and well – with or without survivors.

-oo0oo-

A few minutes later, we all cheer in unison when the head of the eight-year-old boy surfaces, closely followed by Grant. However, our relief is short-lived when Grant informs us that the older man was not to be found in the forward starboard cabin as expected.

The boy, who we learn is named Jeremy, tells us that his Grandfather was about to look for something on the chart table when the waterspout hit. According to the boy, the chart table is located in the port hull.

Grant says he entered and exited the cabin only through the starboard hull, passing the galley on his way to the forward cabin. He also tells us that the inside of the forward cabin was almost full of water, and he'd found Jeremy clinging to the upside-down berth, trying to keep his head within reach of the remaining pocket of air.

The heaving line with the MOB sling is once again thrown out, and after Grant secures the boy, he is hoisted on deck.

Jeremy's teeth are chattering. His lips are blue; his skin is pale, and he's shivering uncontrollably. Andy gently picks up the child who appears tiny and frail encased within his massive arms. Andy then takes him below decks, so he can be reunited with his father and uncle, and to allow Jeff and Chris to treat him for hypothermia.

Taking in a breath, Grant gives us the thumbs-up signal and then ducks below the surface of the water again.

We wait.

And hope.

-oo0oo-

Finally, the head of the older man appears above the surface. He appears to be unconscious, but he's wearing an inflated PFD. We wait a few seconds to see whether Grant will appear.

He doesn't, and the body of the man begins to drift away from the yacht.

"I'm going to retrieve him before he gets taken by the waves," I say to Alec.

Alec agrees. A tethering strap is attached to one of the lifelines, and I then clip the other end to my harness. Alec and Juicer hold onto the back of my harness, giving me stability as I climb over the lifelines.

Keeping my eye on the old man, I step off the edge of the yacht and fall upright into the water. My head manages to stay above the waterline, and immediately I begin swimming.

As soon as I reach the man, I remove the diving mask from his face, and I check for breathing and a pulse. They are both there - just. The heaving line with the MOB sling is tossed towards me, and I secure it around the victim. As I work, I look over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Grant surfacing.

With my waterproof torch, I signal that we are ready to be hauled back on board. The old man is the first to go up.

"Did Grant surface?" I ask while still treading water.

"No. Not yet," Alec replies.

Panic begins to take over. It's been a few minutes. "I'm going to look for him," I say. "If you don't see me back in two minutes, drag me out of there. I don the face mask, take a deep breath and then dive below the surface.

As soon as my head goes below the waterline, I point my torch towards the upturned vessel. A feeling of dread begins in the pit of my stomach as I descend, and when I see the remains of the broken mast, shredded sails and tangled rigging, I'm suddenly reminded of Ali's dream.

The scene has an almost déjà vu quality to it. I try to push the bad thoughts away, so I can concentrate on finding Grant.

It doesn't take long.

Grant is still conscious. His harness is tangled up in a fishing net that is wrapped around some rigging. His hands are frantically trying to undo the harness, but for some reason, he's unable to free himself. I have to wonder where his safety knife is. We all carry them on a lanyard in case of such an emergency.

Grabbing my own safety knife, I begin to saw through the webbing of his harness. I manage to cut through one side, when a wave churns through the water. My body is then suddenly dragged backward, and something strikes me on the side of my head – really fucking hard.

My vision blackens, and I take in a mouthful of cold, briny water.

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die.

Not true.

_I'm nineteen and on my first leave from the army. One evening, while visiting with my cousin Jazz in Philadelphia, my aunt Rachel drags us along with her to an exhibition staged at the Painted Bride Art Center. _

_The photographic exhibition - Drowning, not waving: 31 visual attempts at a justification for suicide by Lauren E. Simonutti - profiles the imagined circumstances of thirty one suicide deaths where a note was not found. Each photo of the deceased is accompanied by a photo of the personal items that were either with or near the person when they died. _

It fleetingly crosses my mind that perhaps this whole thing was a suicide mission.

My suicide note, written in another person's hand, wasn't worth the cardboard it was written on.

_I love you... I'll see you soon  
>xxx<em>

It was a lie; a promise I couldn't keep.

Bella was right.

Ali was right.

My last thoughts, before I lose consciousness, are of the ring they'll find in my left pocket when they retrieve my cold, dead body from the sea, and of overwhelming regret, because I'll never again see the beautiful woman the ring was intended for.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – PFD = Personal flotation device.**

****EPIRB** = Emergency position-indicating radio beacon.**

**MOB sling = Man overboard sling.**

**JBW = Is the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia's Radio Relay Vessel. It's the 'eyes and the ears' of the race until the last yacht reaches Constitution Dock in Hobart.**

**During the 2001 Sydney-Hobart yacht race, ****_Nicorette_**** encountered a tornadic waterspout. This chapter was a fictionalized version based on that encounter. If you watch the first three minutes of this video it explains the events that occurred. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/2001-waterspout**

**In this second video (which is similar, but not in English) you can hear the noise of the waterspout. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/SHobart2 - Remove brackets for links to work.**

**_"Life jackets? Anybody want life jackets?"_**

**Um… that would be a fuck yeah! LOL**

**The descriptions of ****_Breaking Dawn_**** are vaguely based on the supermaxi IRC yacht ****_Wild Thing_**** (previously called Skandia). You can see some pics inside and out here - (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/skandia-wildthing**

**B.O.B xxx**


	143. Chapter 143

**_Nautical glossary below, and here's an awesome YouTube vid to get you in the mood. These guys are insane._**

**_As usual, remove brackets to get the link to work. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/this_is_yacht_racing_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>EPOV<em>**

In one minute, I'm meters below the surface of the Tasman Sea, barely conscious and drowning, and in the next, I'm not.

When I open my eyes, I can see stars in the inky black sky and the almost-full moon that is partly shrouded by the clouds.

I'm still neck-deep in the water - yes - but not under.

My chest expands and the frigid night air roars into my oxygen deprived lungs. My breaths are noisy and they hurt like hell, but at least breathing means I'm still alive.

To my right, there is a sudden, loud cracking sound that startles me, followed by a sickening, sucking, gurgling sound as the hull of the upturned catamaran slips under the water, and then disappears altogether.

_Fuck._

Panic wells inside my chest.

I was too late to save Grant.

While I wish I had the strength to dive down again – I just can't.

_Fuck. I'm so fucking cold and tired._

_I need to sleep. I think I'll close my eyes for just a second._

Consciousness slips away again.

-oo0oo-

I hear a voice.

In my semi-conscious state, I'm alert to the fact that my body is being dragged backwards by my harness. Beneath my heavy eyelids, I'm aware of a light above me.

"Edward?"

Drowsily, I open my eyes.

Someone is next to me. They are holding onto me, doing the best they can to keep my head above the waves.

Over the howl of the wind I can hear the crew members of Breaking Dawn shouting out instructions to each other.

"Welcome back, hero."

I turn to look at the person next to me.

It's Grant. He's grinning like an idiot, although his teeth are chattering uncontrollably.

"You're alive," I croak. "Thank God."

"Amen and hallelujah, brother," he replies.

"I'm really fucking c-cold."

_I'm so damn tired._

"Hey! Stay with me, buddy. We're almost there."

I'm hoisted into the air and multiple sets of hands reach out to pull me on deck.

Once again, consciousness departs.

-oo0oo-

"Edward? Edward? Open your eyes!" the familiar voice calls. This is followed by gentle, but annoying, shoulder shaking.

It's Jeff.

"Mm… sleeping. Bugger off," I mumble.

There's more shoulder shaking.

Opening my eyelids slowly, I see Jeff's concerned face hovering over me.

"Do you know where you are?" he asks.

"Well… if Grant's here, I'm sure as shit I'm not in heaven."

Jeff rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Can you please be serious for once?"

I scowl at Grant, who is pointing his video camera at me over Jeff's shoulder. I may have saved his life, but if he points that bloody thing in my face again, I may have to kill him.

"Go. Away," Jeff growls.

Grant smiles broadly before stepping away to annoy someone else, allowing Jeff to continue his assessment of me.

"I need to get up to take a piss." I start to sit up.

Jeff pushes me down. "No, you don't. You only went ten minutes ago. The urge to urinate is just a symptom of the hypothermia. Now… do you know where you are and what day it is?" he asks insistently.

This is the third time we've been through this routine in the last thirty minutes. I decide to give him a break and answer him properly this time.

"It's Wednesday, the 26th of December. I'm on Breaking Dawn - below decks. We're somewhere off the New South Wales coast, on the Tasman Sea. Do you want me to specify the latitude and longitude? 'Cause I'll have to sneak a look at my watch for the answer."

"Smart arse."

Jeff shines a small pen torch in my face to check my pupils and he encourages me to follow his finger with my gaze. "Now I want you to squeeze my fingers as hard as you can," he instructs.

Doing as I'm told, I slide my hands out from under the covers that are heaped on top of me.

Grabbing hold of Jeff's middle and forefingers, I smirk when I manage to squeeze them with enough strength to make him wince in pain. He asks me to push against his hands, which I manage to do with ease. Moving to the end of the berth, he instructs me to push against his hands with my feet, and then to lift my knees off the berth against the weight of his upper body.

"Good," Jeff says, seemingly satisfied with my ability to obey commands like a trained monkey.

I start shivering again.

As soon as we had been dragged below decks, Grant and I had been stripped of our freezing, saturated clothing. Then, much to my embarrassment, my crew mates forced me to lay down naked on one of the berths, and they towelled me dry.

Poor Megan couldn't avoid the strip show because she was working the radio. She didn't know where to look.

Having run out of space blankets, Jeff and Chris had to improvise by covering me with sheets of clear, sterile plastic (intended for covering a severe burn victim) to help me to retain my own body heat. Apart from the beanie on my head, I'm still naked under all the blankets and sheets of plastic.

Chris approaches from the galley. To Jeff, he says, "Here, let me put these on him."

Lifting the blankets and plastic, Chris places the reusable heating packs on my groins and armpits.

I feel as though I've died and gone to Heaven. I only wish there was more of them to cover my whole body.

Jeff applies a cuff around my upper arm, and he proceeds to take my blood pressure and pulse.

I decide to ask Jeff the one question I've been worried about. "Is it concussion?"

If it's concussion, I'm out of the race.

"Do you remember what happened?"

I yawn widely before answering. "Um… I found Grant, but he was tangled up in some net, and he couldn't get out of his harness. I managed to cut the waist belt and was about to help him out of the harness when something hit the side of my head. I blacked out for a bit, but came to when my face was above the water. As soon as they hoisted me up on deck, everything went black again until they bought me down here and took off my clothes. So- is it concussion?"

"Nah. You were moderately hypothermic and must have passed out from the pain and the cold... ya big pussy."

"Hey Doc, has anyone ever mentioned what a great bedside manner you have?"

"Yeah, your mother…" Jeff roughly places the tip of an ear thermometer into my left ear.

I wince in pain. "Ow. You're a bloody sadist." My fingers reach up to readjust the edge of the beanie, and I wince again as I touch the impressive goose-egg lump above my left ear.

"Sorry," he apologizes, but grins evilly. After hearing a beeping sound, he removes the thermometer and looks at the reading. "Considering you'd already been in wet clothing and in the wind for about twenty minutes; well… in all probability, you were mildly hypothermic before you even jumped into the water. You know, it's a good thing they pulled you out of there when they did, or you'd very likely be dead. You were the last person on this boat who needed to rescue anyone. Grant, at least, wore a wetsuit under his clothing."

"What's my temperature now?"

"Thirty-three-point-two," he declares. "When you get to thirty six degrees, I'll let you sit up. In the meantime, just stay still." He tucks the plastic and blankets securely around my body and then turns to face the opposite berth.

Young Jeremy and his father and uncle are huddled together around the dining table. They are wrapped in space blankets inside sleeping bags, but they are sitting up. Grant passes them three travel mugs, which they accept gratefully. He then shuffles towards me and perches his arse on the edge of the berth.

"Here. This will help to warm you from the inside," Grant says. He places a straw in my mouth, and I sip the warm drink. It tastes delicious.

"Cocoa?" I ask between sips.

"Close - it's Milo."

I nod appreciatively and continue to suck down the warm, chocolaty drink until it's finished.

"Thanks for coming in after me," Grant says. "I'm alive, thanks to you."

"It seems that saving lives is becoming a habit - first Alec, now you. I guess I've got a few hours until midnight to make it a hat trick and beat your score."

He chuckles. "You want another Milo?"

"Yeah - that'd be great, if you can manage it."

Staggering awkwardly as the yacht pitches with the waves, Grant makes his way to the galley with his space blanket, and sleeping bag still wrapped about his body. Outside, the southerly buster, with its 35 to 40 knot winds, is giving Breaking Dawn a pounding. The waves are forcefully crashing against the hull and over the deck with alarming regularity. Between wave sets, Grant pours us two more cups of Milo.

"Where was your safety knife?" I ask, as soon as he sits down again.

"I had it, but my hands were so cold I couldn't hold or open the friggin' thing, and I dropped it when a wave rolled through. It must have been swept over my shoulder." Grant sticks the straw in my mouth, and I drink greedily until I'm sucking down air.

"How's the old guy doing?" I ask, once I'm finished with the second cup. "Is he okay?"

Grant nods and looks towards the opposite berth where Chris and Jeff are working. "He woke about fifteen minutes ago. He had hypothermia too, and apparently his blood-sugar level was relatively low. They're still warming him up, and they've given him a glucose injection. He's a bit confused though."

The hatch opens, and Alec and Megan both descend the steps. Megan informs Jeff and Chris that we're about to rendezvous with a Police Rescue boat.

"Nice to see you're awake, lad," Alec says. "We were just about to give you the Golden Blanket Award. When are you getting out of bed and back to work, you lazy lay about?"

"As soon as Doc tells me that I'm warm enough. If you're offering to spoon with me, to speed up the warming process, by all means, be my guest. I'm warning you though; I'm naked under all of this." I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

Alec roars with laughter before becoming serious. "So, you've heard the rescue boat is on its way… do you want to get off and go home?"

I shake my head. "I'm here to do the Sydney-Hobart race, not the Sydney to Jervis Bay race."

"You do realize that when I radio in the mandatory report from Green Cape tomorrow morning, I have to declare that my boat and crew are both fit to head into Bass Strait. I want you to be straight with me. If you're not 100% sure that you can make it and pull your weight, I'll need you to get off with these passengers. I'm hoping that, with redress, we'll still arrive at Battery Point somewhere among the top five on handicap."

"You have my word, Alec. I'm okay."

-oo0oo-

**_Thursday – December 27_****_th _****_– Bass Strait – 1.00pm._**

They say any day on the water beats a day in the office.

At the moment, I'm begging to differ.

On tired and shaky legs, I'm the last of our watch to enter the cabin for lunch.

Before I can close the hatch, another wave crashes over the cockpit, sending a torrent of water into the cabin and down the back of my wet-weather jacket.

"Fuck this weather," I gripe.

"You guys all right up there?" Grant asks, looking pale and nervous.

"Oh yeah. We're all having a ball," I reply sarcastically, after finally securing the hatch.

Carefully navigating my way past the yards and yards of headsail material all over the floor, I collapse onto the couch next to Matty.

"That was fucking insane. I've never been that far under water while on the deck of a yacht before," Matty says shaking his head in wonder.

"It was pretty weird down here, too. Things suddenly went dark, and our ears popped; isn't that right, Grant?" Megan asks while handing out sandwiches.

Grant nods in agreement and passes out mugs of coffee.

With Alec at the helm, we'd been exceeding speeds of 26-knots on a huge surf when the yacht suddenly dived and disappeared into the trough of a giant wave that had reared up in front of us.

I was holding my breath, for what felt like minutes, before we exploded back to the surface without even slowing down. However, the force of the water managed to open all the rope clutches and ripped a hole in our headsail. We're just lucky the mast didn't go for a walk over the bow too.

In order to forgo speed for safety, we've been sailing with a triple-reefed mainsail and no headsail for the last hour or so.

After our tangle with the waterspout, we had dropped to fifth place for line honors. By rendering assistance to the stricken catamaran, and its occupants, it then set us back about three hours in total.

When we met with the Police rescue boat, conditions had worsened. Unable to remove the passengers safely, due to the four to five-meter swell, we had been forced to sail further inland towards Batemans Bay, where the seas were slightly calmer. This allowed us to transfer the passengers onto a Police launch without endangering lives.

By the time we were released by Race Control and resumed our course, we were in a different weather pattern to Outer Limits, our previously closest competitor within our division.

According to Grant, who has been reporting for the breakfast show and the evening news bulletin, word of the waterspout and the subsequent rescue has been all over the media.

Juicer stands up suddenly and runs to the head. He barely makes it there in time to throw up what little food he's consumed.

"How's the repair going?" Matty asks.

Stevo has commandeered the dining table to fasten strips of Kevlar tape to the ripped sail. "Almost done," he replies nonchalantly around a mouthful of sandwich.

Returning from the navigation table, Megan informs us that the 35 to 45 knot winds will most likely continue for another six hours.

We eat hurriedly and then help Stevo with the sail repair, so we can all try to catch up on some sleep. In the meantime, we just hope they won't need us for any more sail changes.

-oo0oo-

The sound of pounding feet close to my face wakes me from my nap, and I'm not happy about it.

I was just dreaming about Bella.

Juicer, having just scrambled out of the berth opposite from me, is running to the head again. This is the third time he's woken me up.

Megan is lying on the top berth on the opposite side, and she's reading a book. Seeing that I've been woken up, she says, "I'm worried about him. He's not keeping anything down; not even water."

Jeff, I notice, is snoring. He's fast asleep in the berth above me.

Feeling concerned for our youngest crew member, I get up and go to him. The poor kid is kneeling in front of the lav, and just looking at the filthy state of it… well; it's enough to make anyone want to chunder.

I leave him in peace for a moment and head for the galley. Once he's finished throwing up, I return with a bottle of water.

Juicer is sitting upon the floor, leaning to the side with his head against the interior wall. I kneel down and hand him the bottle. "Here… just take very small sips. Don't chug it down."

He shakes his head. "I can't. It'll just come straight back up," he moans.

"Did you ask Jeff for some medication?"

He nods. "I took some more tablets about five minutes ago. They don't work. I swallow them, but they just come up again."

I stand and head back to the berths to ask the Doc for some advice.

Groggily, Jeff tells me what to look for among the stacks and stacks of first aid boxes.

Finding what he described, I head back and squat down in front of Juicer again. "Here," I say, holding up a bullet-shaped foil packet. "Doc says I'm to give you this. He says it should help."

"What the fuck? I can't swallow that; it looks like a fucking horse pill! I already told you, I can't keep anything down."

"Well it's a good thing you don't have to take it orally then."

Juicer stares at me in confusion.

"It's a suppository," I say by way of explanation.

He's looking at me blankly.

"It goes up your arse; it melts inside you, and then the medication gets absorbed into your body."

Now he's gaping at me in horror.

"What?" I ask.

"You're going to stick that thing in my butt? No way, dude, your hands are huge!"

"What? Fuck no!" I exclaim, bouncing the suppository off his forehead. "I'm not putting it in there - you are, you bloody idiot!"

"Um… okay."

Shaking my head in amazement, I start to head back to my berth.

"Ed?" Juicer calls out.

With an epic eye roll, I about-face and walk back to the head.

"What now?" I ask testily. I'm tired and sore and I just want to go back to my dream.

"Um… can you ask Jeff if there is any lube for this thing?"

I feel my eyebrows shoot up in incredulity. "Lube? Are you serious?"

"Er… yeah."

"You wanna take it out for a nice dinner and a movie too? Look at it! It's tiny. You just have to push it in, not have sex with it."

"But-"

My patience is finally starting to wear thin. "For fuck sake, you probably shit bigger than that! Now man up and stick it up your arse, or else I'll do it for you with my boot! And if you think my hands are big, just wait until you get a load of my feet!"

Storming back towards my berth, I can see Megan and Jeff are snickering at me.

"That sounded so wrong," says Megan.

"Mind out of the gutter, perverts."

"Hey Ed? Has anyone ever told you what a great bedside manner you have?" Jeff asks.

"Yeah, your wife…" I collapse face down onto my berth and groan.

Jeff laughs.

"Did you at least tell him to take the suppository out of the foil, Captain Cranky-Pants?" Megan asks.

I roll over to look up at her. "Surely, he wouldn't be that stupid?"

Jeff chuckles. "It's been done before..."

I huff in exasperation and start to sit up, but Jeff takes pity on me, and he goes to check on Julian for himself.

Rolling over and closing my eyes, I sigh and think about Bella.

_Now… where were we, my wicked Miss Swan..._

-oo0oo-

**_Friday – December 28_****_th _****_– Still in Bass Strait – 5.45am._**

To help the yacht heel less and sail faster, those of us who aren't off watch are sitting on the windward side, with our legs over the edge and our heads under the lifelines, hanging our upper bodies out as far as we can.

The full moon has disappeared, replaced by the rising of the sun. Bass Strait is our playground, and we're currently doing 20 to 22 knots.

I'm sitting between Nick and Stevo, and to pass the time, we're regaling each other with tales of personal sailing disasters.

Stevo talked about his encounter with Somali pirates and how he somehow managed to outrun them while sailing around Cape Horn. Nick told us about the time he pitchpoled in a catamaran and fell right through the wingsail. He broke two ribs.

Now it's my turn.

I'm in the middle of recounting the one and only time Bella and I took Alice sailing. Big mistake; let me tell you…

"… so I turned to her and said, 'Ready about!' and she just looks at me dumbly. Then Ali says, 'Eddie? What the fuck are you talking about?' so I said, 'If it's all right with you, _your majesty_, I thought we might tack and head off in that direction.'

"Then she goes, 'Well, what do you expect me to do about it?' So I told her - for something like the third or fourth time that day, 'If I push _this_ stick across to where _that_ tight rope is, would you do us all the _extreme_ honor of letting it go and then going over to the other side to pull the loose one in?'"

"What did she do then?" Nick asks, passing me the box of muesli bars.

"She says, 'No… last time you moved the sails like that, I ended up in the shade and spilled my nail polish all over the trampoline thingy. Why can't we just use the motor like normal people?'"

Nick and Stevo burst into laughter.

Reaching into the box, I take a bar and pass the box along to Stevo, who then passes it down the line to Juicer. When he finally manned up and started using the antiemetic suppositories, Juicer's seasickness improved dramatically, and now he's eating everything in sight. I'd reckon he's easily lost three or four kilos though.

It's been a rough night out on the rail with high winds and heavy seas, but conditions are starting to moderate.

Since Wednesday evening, we've suffered through constantly miserable weather, but thankfully, compared to the events we endured during the first twenty-four hours of the race, it's been somewhat uneventful… unless, of course, you count the fact that _someone_ clogged the lav first thing this morning. Fortunately, it was fixable.

Megan predicts the seas will be less lumpy today. That remains to be seen.

-oo0oo-

**_Saturday – December 29_****_th _****_– 7.00am – Forty miles to go._**

_Not long to go now._

Today is the beginning of the end.

With the rising of the sun, we were cheered by the knowledge that the weather has started to clear up.

We've finally arrived at the awe-inspiring view of Tasman Island.

The scenery of Tasman Island is truly spectacular with its gray, columnar, _Organ Pipes_ appearing to rise dramatically out of the water. The rock formations on the island's southeast region are a welcome sight for our crew, and I suspect they have been for many a Sydney-Hobart competitor since the inaugural race.

It means the end of the race is near.

In 1945, a visiting British Royal Navy Captain by the name of John Illingworth decided to join in with Peter Luke and seven of his club mates on a post-World War II cruise from Sydney to Hobart.

Illingworth had famously said, "Why don't we make a race of it?" He then proceeded to thrash the pants off the rest of the fleet in his boat, _Rani_, winning the race with a time of 6 days, 14 hours and 22 minutes.

Times have certainly changed.

Just after midnight, we heard that Wicked Oryza had won line honors with a sailing time of 2 days, 11 hours and 38 minutes. Apparently, the yacht was well on target to finish earlier; however, when they arrived at the mouth of the River Derwent, the breeze dropped off, as is often the case after dark; or so I've been told.

Megan passes me the binoculars and points out the solitary lighthouse.

"That lighthouse up there is one of Australia's most inaccessible light stations," she says. "Being posted there was like being sent to Alcatraz and the isolation sent some of the light-keepers into madness."

At the base of the island, I can see the albatross' and cormorants dive-bombing the water. It looks as though a group of seals may be herding a shoal of fish.

As we prepare to turn into Storm Bay, _Dee-Vee 8 _is just ahead on our bow. _Southern Stars_ and _Swoosh_ are close behind. _Shure Thing_ and _Avidity _are bringing up the rear of the pack. The breeze is gusting to just over 15 knots.

Someone is trying to push their way in between me and Megan.

It's Grant. He says he wants to get some footage as we head into Storm Bay. He's not particularly popular with the crew this morning, as he's the prime suspect for clogging the toilet again, although, I'm still pointing my finger at Megan.

Unlike yesterday, though, the toilet couldn't be fixed.

In the meantime, we've been told we'll have to harness ourselves and perch our arses off the stern, or else, use a bucket.

Yeah – like that will _ever_ happen, 'cause we're out of toilet paper too. Once again, I'm pointing the finger at Megan – she was responsible for buying the supplies, after all.

After the race, we're all looking forward to getting into Constitution Dock - not to go to the local bar, but to head straight for the closest lav.

I yawn widely. Having gotten by on little more than four hours of broken sleep per day, I feel as though I could sleep for a week, but apart from that, everything is good because I'll soon be seeing Bella.

Looking down at my watch, I note that it's time for me to take over from Dave as the primary grinder, so I stand and make my way over to him.

Megan stands, too. As our navigator, she will need to work closely with Stuart and Iain, as the rhumb-line to the Iron Pot takes us close to Cape Raoul. The Cape is a notorious wind hole, so we don't want to end up becalmed at this late stage of the race.

As I take my position, I reach my hand down, deep into my pocket, to feel for the ring box – just to be sure it's still with me.

_Not long to go now._

-oo0oo-

**_Storm Bay – The Iron Pot – 11 miles to go._**

"Shall we prepare to gybe and fuck off back that way?" Dave asks jovially.

This elicits our response in unison, "Standing by to fuck off back that way!"

"Bearing away... gybe-ho," Dave sings out, turning the wheel back and forth while striking a pose.

We all laugh hysterically, because nothing actually happened… plus, Dave is a grinder – not a helmsman.

In truth, we're going nowhere fast – just drifting.

When we rounded The Iron Pot, a small, flat, sandstone island that was once a whaling station, the wind gods started to fuck with us.

Due to the light, variable, 1 to 2 knot winds, Iain, who was already close to tearing his hair out, gave up the helm to anyone who gave a shit, when the wind dropped off altogether.

In the end, Dave jokingly took over the helm, turned up the music, and the mood lightened instantly. Currently, 'Good Days, Bad Days' by The Kaiser Chiefs is blaring below decks.

Storm Bay is a glass-out, and as more and more boats appear behind us, it's in danger of becoming a parking lot.

I'm hanging out with my legs over the side and my arms over the lifelines. There's a pod of dolphins playing nearby. They're probably wondering why we're going so slowly.

Alec is stretched out along the deck with his Breaking Dawn baseball cap pulled low over his face to shield it from the sun. We no longer give a shit about line honors, handicaps or trophies. We just want to get on dry land, be reunited with our loved ones, and celebrate earning an extra $750,000 for charity.

You could say we're over it. The novelty has worn off.

"Hmm. Maybe if you guys all got out and pushed…," Megan muses.

Dave and Megan are now both in command of getting us out of the doldrums, and it's all starting to get a bit silly.

"Oh, bollocks. We're caught in irons again," Dave says, theatrically throwing his hands up in the air at Megan. He's doing a bang up imitation of Iain from earlier, and it's hilarious.

"Okay, well maybe we should fucking fuck off backwards and see if that fucking works?" Megan hollers.

"You kiss your daughter goodnight with that filthy mouth, oh great _navi-guesser?_" I ask.

Megan responds by giving me the middle finger and we all laugh. "If you're not careful, Eddie boy, I may have to knee you in the balls again," she warns.

The rest of the crew laughs while I just cup myself protectively.

Two hours before we'd found ourselves in the doldrums, I had ventured below deck to get a bottle of water.

Making my way down into the cabin, I'd slipped over backwards and fell hard. It was then that I was hit by the unmistakable smell.

A ten liter plastic container of hydraulic fluid had tipped over and cracked, spilling its contents all over the floor. The cabin floor became a smelly skating rink.

Slightly dazed and unaware that Megan was close behind me, I didn't get the chance to warn her, before she, too, stepped into the oily substance and slipped over. When Megan fell, she managed to land on top of me, and her knee hit me squarely in the nuggets.

There was an inward implosion of agony deep within my belly, and in that moment, I wished I was dead.

I wanted to vomit.

In fact, I almost did.

I wanted to cry like a baby.

Somehow, I managed not to.

I just concentrated on trying to breathe, curled up in a fetal position while lying in a pool of hydraulic fluid.

"Don't even joke about that shit, Meggy," I warn. "If you've permanently damaged the twins, Bella will gut you like a fish."

She chuckles.

"Yeah, laugh it up, girl."

Revenge is coming.

Suddenly, I feel something on the back of my neck.

"Did you feel that breeze, or is that just wishful thinking?" Stuart asks, turning to look at me.

And there it is again.

We look up to see the sails starting to billow.

"Positions!" Stuart yells out, and we all rush back to our designated places.

It's on.

-oo0oo-

**_The River Derwent - Near Battery Point._**

This is the glory and glamour of ocean racing.

"Nearly there, guys, nearly there!" Megan yells excitedly.

In the not-too-far distance, we can see the yellow, pyramid shaped markers floating on the water. Beyond the markers, a short way along the river, we can see the Tasman Bridge that spans the Derwent. Mount Wellington lies beyond that, with Hobart, the capital of Tasmania, nestled in its foothills.

With about thirty seconds to go, Alec calmly says, "We'll have a short celebration, and then we have to deal with a few things, okay."

"And then we can all go to the pub and get smashed," says Darren, doing a fist pump.

"This is the moment," yells Stevo, "Time to count down."

"Ten seconds to go…," Megan says, and in unison, we count, as the bow creeps closer and closer to the finish line.

"Five… four… three… two… ONE!" We all holler and whoop with joy as we reach the finish.

A horn sounds from the nearby committee boat, making it official.

It's over.

"We did it!" Megan squeals excitedly, and she runs around and gives everyone a hug. Alec does the same, minus the girly squealing, of course.

Manly hugs and handshakes are exchanged between most of the other crew members.

We can hear applause and cheers from hundreds of people standing on the foreshores of Sullivans Cove.

"Snuff the kite," Alec calls. The halyard is released, and Juicer, Matty and Andy work together to lower the headsail and pack it away. "Okay, now drop the main."

"Do you want us to flake it or just drop it?" I ask.

"Flake it as it comes down," Alec instructs.

Jeff, Chris, and I lower the mainsail in increments, folding it down on itself, over and over, before tying it to the boom. A waterfront squadron boat pulls up alongside, and Alec leaves the cockpit to speak with the officials.

"As soon as you're ready, can you follow us in?" one of the officials asks.

"Yep, no worries," Alec replies.

As soon as we're ready, Alec starts the engine, and we follow the squadron boat as it guides us towards Constitution Dock.

A flotilla of media and spectator boats flanks us on all sides to escort us in, and we wave and accept their congratulations for finishing the race. Reporters from one of the media boats inform us that the crew of Breaking Dawn has been nominated for the Rani Award – the award for outstanding seamanship, due to the role we played in rescuing the four family members of the upturned catamaran.

According to the reporters, the old man is doing well, and he's due for release from the hospital today.

As we motor into Constitution Dock, crowds of people clap, cheer, yell, and whistle.

From the corner of his mouth, Darren, doing his best impression of a pirate, says, "Bring out yer rum, Hobart."

"Bring out yer wenches, more like it," Dave replies, and they both laugh and wave at the crowd.

"Wow. I can't believe how many people are here this time," Megan says. "I guess it makes a difference arriving in the middle of the day, instead of four in the morning, the way we did last time we were here."

"Mhmm," I respond distractedly. I'm on the lookout for Bella. I silently wonder where she is among the thousands of people in the crowd.

As though she's reading my mind, Megan says, "You won't see her here. I called Mum on the satellite phone earlier. They'll meet us at the Royal Yacht Club. Apparently, it's closer to the hotel that we're all staying in, and Mum said the traffic around here is nuts."

The Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania is the one marina along the River Derwent capable of berthing the super maxis, so after doing a circuit of Constitution Dock for the gathered masses, we head back up the river.

-oo0oo-

Pulling into the marina, we see a crowd waiting by our assigned berth. There must be around a hundred or so people clapping, yelling, and cheering for us, but as far as I'm concerned, there is only one person that matters, but from this distance, I can't see her anywhere.

In the back of my consciousness, I know my crew mates are celebrating.

I can hear the cans of alcohol hissing as their lids are cracked open, and crew members are toasting each other for completing the race in a reasonable time. Despite the events we endured to get here, we've arrived safe and well and in one piece when dozens of other boats failed.

A can of beer is thrust into my hand by Darren, and we toast each other before chugging down the brew.

From inside the cabin, someone turns the radio to full blast, and 'When Love Comes to Town' by U2 and B.B. King starts to play.

After tossing my empty can into a trash bag that's been tied to the boom, I decide to walk towards the bowsprit, closing the distance between me and the pier by just a few meters, as if it will somehow get me closer to my girl.

Standing on the bowsprit, I'm searching the crowds for any signs of Bella, Athena, or Dani. From behind, I suddenly feel a cold liquid being poured over me. I smell the bourbon as it trickles over the peak of my baseball cap, and it drips down the sides of my face and neck. Wiping the liquid from my face with my hand and licking my fingers, I realize its bourbon and cola.

Turning to find the culprit, I instantly see Megan. She is standing side on, about a meter from me. Seemingly deep in conversation with Juicer, she is holding a white can of alcohol in her hand.

"Megan?" I growl.

She turns to look at me. "What?" she asks innocently, after taking a sip from her can - her can of Jim Beam and cola.

She gazes at me, so calm and cool; I bet butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I look around and note there are more crew members near her, and they too, are holding onto cans of Jim Beam. It could have been Chris, Jeff, or Juicer.

Megan almost has me convinced that it wasn't her, until the tiniest hint of a smirk turns up the corner of her mouth.

"You'll pay for that!" I warn, lunging towards her.

Megan squeals and tries to run away. "It wasn't me," she lies, and then she laughs.

Grant, finally becoming useful, blocks her way, and she runs headlong into his body. Grabbing her around the waist, he begins to tickle her mercilessly. "Liar! It was her, Edward," he bellows, "I saw the whole thing."

"No!" She screams between fits of laughter.

I begin to stalk towards her, and she feebly throws her empty can at me, but it misses by a mile. As I draw closer, she starts kicking and screeching like a wild animal. Narrowly missing a kick to the balls, I manage to grab her by the ankles, and Grant and I then carry Megan to the side of the boat.

Together, we count, "One… two… three!" and we swing her body over the side. She splashes into the water below while screaming out obscenities.

Grant laughs hysterically; however, before he can congratulate himself, he is set upon by Jeff and Chris. Much to his surprise, he too, is tossed in the water.

The three of us high-five each other, but I duck away before they can turn on me.

From then on, it's a free for all, as more members of the Breaking Dawn crew are tossed, pushed, or voluntarily jump over the lifelines, until Alec and I are the only ones left standing on deck. Alec expertly guides the boat into the berth, while I push the fenders over the sides and throw out the mooring lines to the marina attendant.

Once we're secured, Alec turns off the engine, and we make our way towards the stern. On the way, Alec grabs the last two cans of beer from the carton, and he tosses one to me. After stepping over the lifelines above the transom, we pop the lids of our beers and proceed to pour half the contents over each other's heads, before downing the rest, belching, and then tossing the cans haphazardly over our shoulders. We are single-handedly holding onto the lifelines behind us, while observing the crew in the water.

Alec turns to me and says, "Thanks for everything, lad. We couldn't have done this without you. So, what do you say? Same time next year?"

I grin and shrug. "Maybe… if my wife-to-be lets me."

"Not even married yet, and you're already whipped. Welcome to the club." He claps me hard on the shoulder, almost causing me to lose my grip on the lifeline.

We laugh at each other and again face the Breaking Dawn crew. They are treading water and calling out to us, daring us to join them. "Ready?" Alec asks.

"By all means; go ahead," I say, gesturing with a sideways nod toward the water below.

"You first."

I shake my head ruefully. "Ladies before gentlemen."

"Well, like I said – you go first." Alec suddenly puts me in a single-armed head lock, and we begin tussling. "Get in the water, Eddie, you big girl."

"In that case, age before beauty," I choke out, laughing hard, and managing to get out of the head lock.

"You know the skipper is meant to be the last one to leave the vessel," he argues.

"Only if we have to abandon ship," I counter.

"Disobeying my orders again?"

"Yep. This is mutiny."

"I dunno, lad. Maybe I should keelhaul you."

"I'd like to see you try it, you old fart."

We both laugh.

The crew is voicing their impatience, taunting us and insulting us with names, such as 'gutless' and 'chickenshit'.

Alec then says, "Together on the count of three…"

After checking my shorts pocket for the ring box, I nod, and on the count of three, we both jump into the water. For an old guy, Alec does a pretty mean cannonball. I'm impressed.

Despite the warmth from the afternoon sun, the water is quite cold, so I turn and start swimming toward the pier.

And that's when I see Bella.

She's standing next to Athena, and they are both smiling and laughing. I pick up the pace, eager to be near her.

Bella, realizing that I've seen her, moves to stand in front of the crowd, close to the edge of the pier.

When I reach the pier, I look up at Bella from my position in the water, overjoyed at seeing her standing above me. I can feel my heart racing for her.

Starting with the strappy black sandals on her pretty feet, my gaze greedily travels up her lightly tanned legs, along her body, towards her smiling lips and shining eyes. She's dressed casually, wearing a short, faded denim skirt and a white t-shirt. A black cardigan is tied around her waist. She still has her arm in a sling, and her hair is pulled back in a low clip, exposing her neck and beautiful face.

"Hi," she says.

Bella in the sunlight is truly a beauty to behold.

"Hi, beautiful," I reply, smiling widely while treading water.

My eyes decide to make the journey from painted toenails to sun-kissed face again, as it was well worth the trip the first time; however, my Bella ogling is interrupted when Megan and Alec gang up on me from behind, dunking me under the water.

On resurfacing, I scowl and spit water at the laughing father and daughter double-team as they swim away from me as fast as they can, and I can hear Bella, Athena, and Dani laughing too.

The crew members begin to make their way towards dry land, so I turn and race towards the nearest ladder. As soon as I step away from the ladder, I try to navigate through the milling crowd towards Bella.

Everyone is excited, happy to be back with their loved ones, and even though the crew members are all dripping wet, they are greeted with unrestrained hugs and kisses.

I can see Athena and Dani running to meet Alec and Megan. As Dani runs past, I ruffle her hair, and as soon as she realizes it's me, she stops briefly and says, "Oh hey, Ed! Good to see ya," before smiling and running off again.

The moment Bella is standing before me, I immediately drop to my knees in front of her, and wrap my arms around her waist. Oblivious to everyone around us, I pull her body towards me and bury my face against her abdomen.

I inhale deeply.

_Home_.

I hold onto her tightly.

"Edward?"

I don't answer; I just sigh in relief, and the sound is muffled by her t-shirt.

Bella giggles when I don't answer her or move from my position for at least three minutes.

"Edward." She's pushing gently against my shoulders, and I pull back just enough to stare up at her.

"I really missed you," I say, burying my face against her belly again. While I can think of a few other places on Bella's body that I'd like to bury my face – this is at least socially acceptable... sort of.

"I missed you, too. Um, Edward, are you going to stand up? This position is awkward and a little embarrassing," she says, laughing softly.

I pull back to look up at her again and grin.

Smiling at me adoringly, Bella bends down to kiss me. My hands leave her hips, and they capture her face, encouraging her to increase the depth and extent of our kiss. After another minute, Bella straightens up, breathless and panting, but I'm reluctant to let go of her.

"Edward, are you going to stand up, or do you have land sickness?" she asks seriously.

I shake my head. Though my legs are shaking, and they feel a bit like jelly, disembarkation sickness or land sickness has never been a problem for me. I'm just a love sick fool for my Bella.

"I thought I'd ask a really important question while I'm down here," I say, pulling the ring box out of my short's pocket. I remove the box from its protective zip-lock bag and take out the ring.

Bella gasps, realizing what I'm about to do in front of the crowd that seems to have turned their attention on us. Taking hold of her left hand, I slide the ring onto her finger - the ring I purchased from De Beers, way back in September during my nine and a half hour layover in Seoul.

The ring, with its twin-shank platinum bands, is pavéd with round, brilliant diamonds that entwine up to a round, brilliant solitaire. It slides easily onto her finger, and due to Rose's help in finding out the right size, it's a perfect fit.

It looks as though she was born to wear it.

Gazing at the ring in wonder, and then at me, I can tell she's pleased, but surprised. She probably thought my decision to propose to her on Boxing Day, using a handheld sign, was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

"Marry me and make me the happiest man on Earth?" I ask.

She smiles and then leans down to kiss me briefly. "You don't have to ask me twice. You know I already said I would."

"Maybe I just need to hear you say the words with my own ears."

"Yes, I'll marry you," she says. Reaching for my hand, Bella urges me to stand up, so I do.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she says, reaching up with her left hand to touch the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. I wrap my arms around her, mindful of her injured arm that's pressed between our bodies.

"A million times yes, I'll marry you," she says, breathing the words against my lips.

Suddenly, there are cheers and whistles from the spectators around us. Popping corks and the shower of alcohol that follows startles us out of our moment. Alec and Megan are spraying the contents of two magnums of champagne over the gathered crowd, making sure we're getting our fair share of the drenching.

Bella looks up and holds out her left hand as though checking for raindrops, before laughing, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to catch drops of champagne on her tongue.

My heart bursts at the sight of her, and I have to capture her in my arms once again.

Her laughing breaths caress my neck as I pull her tightly against me. Closing my eyes, my lips search for another kiss, and when she opens her mouth to me, I taste the champagne on her tongue. And because it's been a hell of a long week since Bella and I have been intimate - I can also feel the awaking of my neglected cock in my cargo shorts.

Mindful of the innocent children in the crowd, I restrain myself from grinding against Bella's hip, and I reluctantly end our fervent kiss when the need for oxygen overrides all else. "I love you, so much," I say, slightly out of breath, against the skin of her cheek.

Bella giggles and then squirms against me, which does nothing to solve the growing concern down below. "I love you, too," but you are really tickling me with this scruff you have going on here," she says, scratching her fingers through the beard that has been growing since I last shaved – which from memory, was Christmas morning.

"I'll bet this scruff could tickle something else," I say suggestively next to her ear, quiet enough that only she can hear me. Bella moans and shivers against me, a sure sign she's thinking exactly what I'm thinking. "How far is it to our hotel room?" I ask.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she says, "It's a ten-minute walk – even less if we walk fast... or run."

Grabbing my hand in hers, my beautiful, horny fiancée eagerly leads me along the pier.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Thank you for the wonderful response to the last chapter. Some of you mentioned the nautical terms and the need for a glossary, so I have outlined what may be unfamiliar to you below. There are also some more YouTube vids if you are interested.**

**Southerly Buster – **A severe weather pattern experienced approximately five times a year along the coast of NSW (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/sthly_buster

**Golden Blanket Award** – A derogatory title for someone who sleeps past their allocated off-watch period, therefore pissing everyone off.

**Cape Green report** – As a result of the 1998 Sydney-Hobart disaster, all competitors are mandated to report via HF radio their assessment of their boat and crew's ability to safely enter Bass Strait. Failure to do so, or making false reports, results in disqualification from the race.

**Triple-reefed mainsail** - Reefing is a sailing maneuver intended to reduce the area of a sail which can improve the ship's stability and reduces the risk of capsizing, broaching, or damaging sails or boat hardware in a strong wind.

**Pitchpoled** (_the mast takes a walk over the bow_) – perhaps the most terrifying event on a sailboat, and is another form of capsizing. Pitchpoling is when a boat capsizes end-over-end, as opposed to rolling. This usually happens when a boat is surfing down the face of a wave too fast. The boat buries its bow at the bottom of the wave (the trough), and then flips over itself , driven by the momentum. It is generally catastrophic when a vessel pitchpoles. This YouTube vid shows it perfectly. Ouch! (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/pitch-pole.

**Rhumb-line - **It's the most direct course between the start line and the finish line. It is used to calculate progress and handicap standings.

**Navi-guesser** – A derogatory term for a navigator who has no fucking clue.

**Becalmed** – A motionless boat due to lack of wind.

**Glass-out **– Flat seas.

**Gybe **or** bearing away -** A maneuver where a sailing vessel (which is sailing in the same direction as the wind) turns its stern through the wind, such that the wind direction changes from one side of the boat to the other.

**Tacking** or **coming about** - A maneuver by which a sailing vessel (which is sailing approximately into the wind) turns its bow through the wind so that the direction from which the wind blows changes from one side to the other.

**In The Doldrums** - Calm periods when the winds disappear altogether, trapping sail-powered boats for periods of hours, days or weeks.

**In irons** - If the boat attempts to tack with a slow initial speed, or otherwise loses forward motion while heading into the wind, the boat will coast to a stop, and the lack of water flow over the rudder will cause the sailor to lose the ability to steer the boat. Stopped head-to-wind, a sailboat is said to be "in irons"

**Snuff the kite** – A snuffer is a long funnel/sleeve system that gathers and encases the spinnaker in an easy-to-handle Nylon tube. It makes setting and dousing your kite (gennaker or spinnaker headsails) easier and safer. The injection molded funnel is designed to minimize twists and wraps while gathering the sail.

**A halyard** - A line (rope) that is used to hoist a sail.

**The bowsprit** - A pole (or spar) extending forward from the vessel's prow, to which the stays of the foremast are fastened. It's the pointy bit at the front of the boat that sticks out beyond the hull.

**The transom** - The surface that forms the stern (back end) of a vessel. Transoms may be flat or curved and they may be vertical or raked forward.

**Keelhauling** – A form of punishment often associated with pirates. The sailor was tied to a line that looped beneath the vessel, thrown overboard on one side of the ship, and dragged under the ship's keel, either from one side of the ship to the other, or the length of the ship (from bow to stern) typically resulting in serious cuts, loss of limbs and even decapitation or drowning.

**More Sydney to Hobart vision taken of the 2010 race -** (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Syd-Hob-yachts

**Bella's ring** - (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/bellas-ring

**_Till next time – BOB xx_**


	144. Chapter 144

**Seven months later…**

**BPOV**

**Wednesday July 3rd - 1.05pm.**

To pass the time until I can head off, I'm eating lunch in my office and reading Buffy and Spike fanfiction on my iPad. I've left everything in good order for my colleagues, so they can take over the various treatment plans for the clients I've been working with. Tia and Nettie will need to cover me for the next four weeks while I'm away.

Huffing in annoyance at the clock above the door, I see it's past 1.00pm.

Although I was only meant to be working an eight till twelve shift today, I've been waiting for over an hour for a phone call or text from the Swantown Marina. The boatworks should have contacted me by now. They assured me that they would call between twelve and one. The boat was meant to be ready a week ago, but apparently they've been waiting on a part. The boat mechanic promised that it would be in by this morning, but if the modifications haven't been completed by the end of today, I swear, heads are gonna roll.

Before leaving for the U.K. to fulfill his annual Army Reserve obligation, Edward organized for '_My Solitude'_ to be taken out of the water. He wanted to get the hulls repainted, a new and more powerful outboard motor fitted, the rigging overhauled, new sails, and some solar and wind-powered electrical generators installed. That way, we won't have to rely solely on the outboard motor to charge the batteries that allow us to run the refrigerator, microwave, chart plotter, lights, and autopilot. With tomorrow being Independence Day, the boatworks will be closed, and Friday is cutting things a little too close for my liking.

On Saturday, my bridesmaids and I will be travelling from Boston Harbor to Gallagher Cove by boat, and then on Sunday, Edward and I will head off for our sailing honeymoon.

It'll take us a few days to trailer the boat to Florida, and then we're joining up with a small flotilla of boats that will make the journey across the Gulf Stream, heading for the Bahamas. We'll spend the next two weeks, hopping from island to island before coming home. Then we'll start house hunting and readying my house for sale.

My phone chimes alerting me to a text. I get excited, until I realize it's from serial-pest number one - also known as my Matron of Honor.

**_Call me - Ali_**

I ignore the text and go back to reading.

Every three minutes, on the dot, a new message arrives.

**_Call me. Please - Ali _**

**_Belly! Call me. I need to ask you something - Ali _**

**_Is there something wrong with your phone? Call me - Al _**

**_Have you left work yet? I thought you were only wanking until 12. I'm sitting in your driveway. Where are you? - Ali _**

**_I meant WORKING, not WANKING. LOL. Damn autocorrect! Seriously, call me! We need to talk about your party - Ali_**

"I swear if she keeps this shit up, I'm eloping," I mutter as another text arrives.

**_Hey Sis. Tried 2 ring u B4, but u didn't pick up. R u at work? Just want 2 confirm 4 Friday afternoon. L. xx_**

I respond to serial-pest number two (also known as Leah Black, my second bridesmaid) and confirm that I will, of course, be attending my salon appointment in readiness for the rehearsal dinner. It'll also be a practice run for my hair and makeup on Saturday. She already knows this. She's just trying to work out where I am. I'll bet she's with Ali, waiting to ambush me in my driveway.

My phone starts to play Pearl Jam's '_Black', _but I hit decline and ignore her.

Just as I'm about to read another chapter, my phone chimes yet again.

**_ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE! - R Mc._**

And that would be serial-pest number three - my other bridesmaid and soon to be sister-in-law.

Jesus. She's so bossy when she's pregnant. She's probably hungry again.

Okay… I'll admit it. I'm hiding from my friends.

I don't know how many times I have to say it; I don't need a bachelorette party, or at least their version of one.

No way, no how.

Not gonna happen.

Not today.

Not ever.

I take the last bite of my banana; toss the peel into the waste basket, and then attempt, once again, to read the smut-filled, _porn-without-plot-progression_ chapter. This particular story is so well written, it has me squirming in my seat and fantasizing about Edward as a vampire. This, of course, causes Libby to wake up.

**({'}) **_I miss El Capitán._

I know.

**({'}) **_When is El Capitán coming back?_

Tomorrow morning.

**({'}) **_We need to get laid. It's been too long._

Be quiet.

**({'})** _But-_

Don't get started. Just settle down and leave me in peace.

**({'}) **_Bitch! _

With a sigh, I give up.

I can't concentrate when Libby gets whiny, and I can't exactly take care of _business_ while I'm in my office. I exit Safari on my iPad and stare at my newest framed picture of Edward, the one where he's standing in front of an Apache helicopter.

**({'})** _Edward looks so sexy in camo._

Definitely.

**({'})** _At least he didn't get his hair cut so short this time._

That's because I threatened to ban the mother-of-the groom from her own son's wedding if she went anywhere near his head with a pair of clippers.

**({'}) **_I miss Edward so much_.

Me too.

I sigh.

It's been three excruciatingly long weeks. He's returning tomorrow morning, and I'm praying he comes back to me safely, but most importantly, on time. There's so much we have to do before Saturday afternoon.

Looking up at the clock again, I just can't believe it; in approximately three days and four and a half hours, I will become Isabella Marie Cullen.

In seventy six point five hours, I will become Edward's wife.

Just 4590 minutes to go until I go from being Miss Swan to Mrs. Cullen.

**({'})** _Yeah, okay, okay, we get it!_

Not that I'm counting down or anything… or playing with the time conversion app on my iPad.

I look up at the clock again and scowl. I swear the minute hand just went backwards from the last time I looked at it.

Only 275,388 seconds or thereabouts of singledom left.

**({'})** _But more importantly, how long until we can get laid?_

My desktop phone rings, and I eye it with caution before answering.

"Speech Pathology office, this is Bella Swan speaking," I say tentatively.

To my relief, it's the receptionist from the boatworks, and she informs me that the boat is about to be trailered back into the water. It will take them about an hour to extend and lock down the akas, hoist the wing mast into position, set up the rigging, and then move it to one of the docks.

While I'm on the phone, two more texts appear - one from Ali and one from Leah. Maggie then pokes her head around the door. She's speaking to someone on the portable phone, and it's clear she's just informed the caller of my whereabouts. I'll bet my last homemade, triple-dipped, double dark chocolate, peppermint schnapps fudgesicle that it's one of the bothersome bridesmaids.

I tell the caller from the boatworks that I'll come to the marina between two and three to inspect the modifications, and then I'll write them a check.

After hanging up, I decide it's time to say a quick goodbye to Maggie, Tia, and Nettie. Then I'll leave; hopefully before Ali, Leah, and Rosie turn up at my office door to drag me off, kicking and screaming, to God only knows where.

As I'm about to step around the corner, to approach the reception desk, I hear Maggie speaking in hushed tones. My blood runs cold at the words '_party'_ and '_handcuffs_' and I wonder who Maggie is speaking to. I quickly extend my head around the corner and see she's with Tia and Nettie.

Oh, Hell no!

It seems Maggie has been dragged into the whole _let's_-_throw-Bella-a-bachelorette-party_ fiasco, and I wonder if Tia and Nettie are in on it too.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

'_Party'_ and '_handcuffs_' immediately brings to mind the hideously embarrassing night of Leah's party at The Brotherhood Lounge. It was her baby shower and bachelorette party.

The evening had barely begun, and we were all having a great time, just talking, eating, drinking, and laughing, when there was a loud knock at the front entrance doors. This was followed by a deep male voice telling us to open up because someone had reported a crime. Yep… you guessed it; Sue had hired a cliché for her heavily pregnant daughter's bachelorette party.

My stepmom is a freak.

But you already knew that.

Months later, I think I'm still mentally bearing the scars from that evening.

Firstly, I don't find police officers remotely sexy, because _duh_ - my dad - and secondly, as it turned out, the stripper Sue hired was Austin Marks.

I went to middle school and high school with Austin, and while the pimply-faced school nerd had certainly changed and grown up, I felt nothing but embarrassment, seeing what his life had become.

And let's face it - Austin was no Edward.

During Austin's routine-

**({'}) **_*gag*_

-he dragged me into the center of the room and plunked me down on a chair. The moment Austin dropped trou and jiggled his gold-sequined, thong-covered, half-erect junk in my face…

**({'}) **_*gag*_

I can tell you, I was outta that seat faster than a girl untagging herself from an unflattering photo on Facebook.

The whole experience was beyond mortifying.

As I sped towards the safety of the kitchens, Ali had yelled and called me '_Prudella,'_ but Rosie followed and asked why I was running away.

Knowing only Rosie could understand me, I hissed, "Sono andato a scuola con lui quando eravamo giovani." Pushing my way out the back exit, I then added, "Lui mangia il moccio, l'ho visto!"

Rosie burst into laughter, but she was kind and understanding enough to hang out with me. The smell of the dumpsters we stood next to, were much less nausea-inducing than Austin's skin-show.

When we went back inside, twenty minutes later, we found Sue handcuffed to the chair for being a bit too handsy with the entertainment, and Ali was waiting for Jazz to arrive so he could drive her to the hospital. Apparently, she'd laughed so hard at my reaction, and Sue's inappropriate behavior, that her waters broke.

Eight hours later, Kimberly '_Peaches'_ Hale was born, weighing a respectable seven pounds and five ounces. According to Ali, Peaches inherited her father's oversized melon-head, necessitating an episiotomy and stitches, and she's been walking funny ever since.

All I'm sayin' is: What goes around - comes around.

'Cause after the birth, I made Ali a care package.

I regifted back to her the unused kiddie pool ring she had given to me to sit on after my 'Brazilian incident'. I also gave her a new tube of Dr. Numb cream, a super-jumbo sized packet of maternity pads, and six pairs of granny-style panties. The homemade card featured a white cat on the front. The cat had a bright red, jagged mouth painted on it, making it look like Heath Ledger's Joker from Batman - The Dark Knight.

The caption said, "Joker pussy wants to know how you got _your_ scars."

Ali, thankfully, saw the funny side.

**({'})**_ With a name like Kimberly Peaches, I predict Ali's kid will follow in her father's footsteps._

Huh?

**({'}) **_She'll either end up working as a stripper, or asking if you want to upsize your fries._

Don't be mean. For all you know, Peaches could end up in the Oval Office.

**({'}) **_Yeah, right. Only if she's polishing the knobs underneath the desk; if you catch my drift._

Libby!

**({'}) **_I meant as the cleaner, you pervert! _

Oh…

**({'}) **_If it wasn't for the gutter, your mind would be homeless. Sheesh!_

Tia, Maggie, and Nettie are still whispering and giggling. My suspicions are confirmed when I faintly hear the words '_costume'_ and '_lickable body oil._'

Eww. Just eww.

Don't get me wrong, I dearly love my friends with all my heart, but male strippers are just not my idea of a fun time. Personally, I'd be happy to go to a bar to get sloshed, but with Leah and Ali nursing their infants, and now Rosie being pregnant again, alcohol is obviously out of the question for the broody bridesmaids.

At Ali's post-baby baby-shower, I had mentioned the idea of going to a casino for a night of fun, but Jazz shook his head and pulled me aside. I was shocked to learn of Ali's former gambling problems, so a casino was a no-no.

Leah suggested going dancing, and I agreed, but Ali and Rosie don't like night clubs.

When I suggested we could just join in with Edward's Fourth of July bachelor party, all of the overbearing bridesmaids just gave me the '_what-the-fuck'_ look.

I gave up in the end, and I told the teetotaling trio not to bother with a bachelorette party. Then, I organized for my own Bridal Shower to be held at Esme's, while the guys are off doing their own thing.

Tomorrow after a family lunch, the guys are heading to Lakewood for an afternoon at Grand Prix Raceway, followed by an all-night pub crawl. It sounds like my idea of fun.

But now it seems I've been ignored.

Shit. They've gone and hired a stripper.

Fuck that!

**({'}) **_Please, I have standards!_

I didn't mean literally!

**({'}) **_What are we gonna do?_

We'll have to go through the rear entrance.

**({'}) **_That's what she said. Heh-heh._

Oh, grow up!

Taking off my high heels, I stealthily Ninja-walk in the opposite direction, staying close to the wall, until I reach the end of the corridor, making my escape down the back stairwell.

After going down three flights of stairs, I slip my shoes on, calmly exit the building, and head for the employee parking garage.

While walking through the visitor's parking lot, I see Leah, Ali, and Rosie arrive in Ali's distinctively yellow Dodge Durango. As they cruise the lot for a parking space, I quickly duck for cover between a white 4-door Ford Lariat and a blue Volkswagen Golf. Through the window of the VW, I watch as the threesome get out of the car and head for the main entrance.

My ringtone for non-specific callers is that of a barking dog, and the sound of it startles me.

I'm so damn jumpy.

Looking at the phone screen, it's a number I recognize, so I answer the call. "Hello?"

_"Hi, Bella. It's Angela Cheney from Weddings with Joy."_

"Oh, hi. Um… is everything okay?"

_"Everything's fine, but I was wondering if you could come into the store sometime this afternoon for another fitting. We'll be closed tomorrow for the holiday, so I want to check everything fits perfectly in case our seamstress needs to make any adjustments before you pick up your gown on Friday."_

"I can come in right now, actually. I'm just leaving the hospital, so I'm less than ten minutes away, if that's convenient."

_"That's perfect. I'll see you soon."_

"Okay, bye."

As soon as I see the traitorous triad enter the building, I pop up from my hiding place; however, I almost crap my pants when I turn and suddenly come face to face with an extremely large drooling dog. Its massive head is hanging out of the Ford's front passenger-side window.

I am frozen in place as the dog gives me a big, wet, slobbery lick along the length of my upper arm. Fearing that he's sampling me before going in for the kill, I whimper pathetically.

Terror, it seems, saps all the strength from my voice. "Please don't eat me, Cujo," I barely manage to say in a whisper.

"Hercules!" the owner of the dog yells in alarm. The man, who I happen to recognize, tugs on the dog's thick, studded-leather collar, pulling its head back inside the van. "Sorry about that, lady, he won't hurt you. Oh hey, Bella. Long time, no see!"

"Laurent!" I gasp in relief. "Jeez. I haven't seen you in ages. How long has it been?"

"About a year, I'd say."

"You're back in town - how's the family?"

"Sadly, Irina's mom passed away last month, but she went very peacefully. That's why we've just moved back. Irina's well - all things considered - and Bree's growin' like a weed. She just turned two a few months ago."

I smile. "Is Bree still swimming?"

"Nah, but now we're here, she'll probably start lessons again. Are you still teaching the Waterbabes group?"

I nod. "Unfortunately, Bree's too old for my group, so she'll go into the Watertots."

"Thank God." He grins. "I won't have to sing those embarrassing nursery rhymes or do the actions in public again."

I roll my eyes and laugh, and I'm about to tell him that at least his singing voice was better than James', when I hear a female voice speak up from behind me.

"Bella?"

I turn to see that it's Laurent's wife, and not one of the tyrannical triumvirate. I hug Irina in greeting and then glance back at Laurent. "Looks as though we'll be hearing you sing "The Little Green Frog" song once again," I tease, indicating to Irina's pregnant belly. She looks to be about seven or eight months along.

Laurent shakes his head. "It'll be Irina's turn next time. I'm telling you now, my singing days are over."

We all laugh.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have an appointment to try on my wedding gown."

Reaching down to grab my left hand, Irina stares with wide eyes at my engagement ring. "Whoa! Look at those rocks sparkle. You are one lucky lady. When are you getting married, and who's the groom?"

"Do you remember that guy who tried to buy your sweater for $200?"

Irina nods. "I remember; his name was Edward, right? And his stepsister was Rosemary or Rosalie… or something like that. He was there helping out with his niece while her husband was in hospital."

"Yeah, her name is Rosalie, and- hey… wait a minute! You knew all that? I mean that she was his stepsister and not his wife?"

Irina looks confused. "Of course I knew. She just about told me and Vicky her whole life story the first time we met her."

I chuckle at the irony.

I guess I was paying way too much attention to Edward that first day, because I missed out on hearing that particular conversation. Briefly, I wonder how differently things might have played out if I'd known from the beginning he was single.

**({'}) **_You'd probably have one less scar on your head, and Mike Newton wouldn't have seen you in your Hello Kitty underwear._

"Well, it's Edward I'm marrying, and the big day is this Saturday," I explain.

"Congratulations. I suppose Rosalie's husband eventually got out of the hospital - did she manage to keep the baby?"

I nod. "Yeah, they're all great. Their little girl is almost seven months old, and Emmett and Rosie married again back in May. Baby number three is due next February, and they're hoping for a boy this time."

"Glad to hear it all worked out for them. Well, we must be going too; we're actually having Vicky and James over tonight for dinner, and I need to get organized before we collect Bree from the sitter." Irina awkwardly climbs into the Ford, shoving the hell hound into the back seat. "It's been great seeing you again," she calls out the window as Laurent starts the motor.

"You too. I'll see you around when you come back to the aquatic center."

They both wave goodbye as they drive off, and then I head for the parking garage.

-oo0oo-

While Angela is pinning the bodice of my gown, Makenna calls and asks if either Edward or I can come into the Lovers store. With no other options, I reluctantly agree to stop by.

Edward is normally the one who deals with her in person, as I'm always paranoid I'll run into my dad or Sue at the store. I tell Makenna that I'm just around the corner and will see her sometime within the hour.

Today is probably an opportune time to tell Makenna that we're thinking of giving the 'Sex on Sundays' blog away. While it's been a fun year, Edward and I feel as though there is only so much we can test-drive. There are some types of products that we simply won't touch, such as metal handcuffs, or any substance that claims to be '_warming_'.

**({'})** _Or whips, paddles, floggers, crops, canes, ball-gags, gimp masks, strap-ons, medical instruments, dildos or vibrators bigger than_ _El Capitán-_

Yeah, okay, okay, we get it!

**({'}) -**_or anything that realistically resembles female pink bits_.

And now that we have our favorite collection of _go-to-goodies_, it seems as though we are constantly comparing everything else to the things we've highly rated, meaning there have been a lot of disappointments along the way.

For example, the first week Edward was away, I reviewed a new, very expensive clit vibrator.

The manufacturer boasted that it was, _"…a discrete, luxury vibrator with two independent motors that gently caress both sides of the clitoris, creating a surround-sound sensation of powerful (but near silent) vibrations that will quickly make any woman cry out in ecstasy_…"

**({'})** _Bull. Shit!_

The vibe was puzzling to the eye - looking more like a futuristic tuning fork than a vibrator. So I suppose the vibe was discreet in that it didn't scream, _"Look at me - I'm a sex toy!"_

That interesting factoid aside, I have come to the conclusion that the vibe must have been made without any consideration whatsoever towards a woman's sexual anatomy and that it was designed by Satan himself. I should have been clued-in the moment I turned it on. After first navigating through a bazillion different speeds and vibration settings (using its microscopically ill-placed buttons) a scary noise emanated from between its twin motors - a sound that was somewhat reminiscent of a large model airplane engine, or a mini motocross bike.

Near silent, my ass!

However, the obnoxiously loud, buzzing noise turned out to be the least of its problems. The arms didn't even remotely "_gently caress both sides of the clitoris._" It ruthlessly ravaged my clit as though it was a pair of demented tweezers with a cannibalistic penchant for devouring female flesh. Rather than "_crying out in_ _ecstasy,"_ I cried out in anguish - several times, in fact, as I stubbornly turned the vibe this way and that, trying out every possible position to make the fiddly, poorly designed product work for me without pinching my most sensitive areas.

Sometimes persistence doesn't pay off.

After my poor, bruised and macerated clit screamed for mercy, I gave up and threw the evil device against the wall - repeatedly.

I'll say one thing for it - it was well constructed. I didn't manage to break it; no matter how hard I tried and tried, earning it one out of ten stars.

I did finally manage to find a use for it though. It now serves as a shim under one of the uneven legs of my computer desk in the spare bedroom.

At least my desk no longer wobbles when I blog.

-oo0oo-

After apologizing to Angela for being a typical bride, losing weight (yet again) I leave the bridal store and head around the corner to Lovers.

But rather than turning in to the plaza parking lot, I keep driving past.

As my fucked up luck would have it, I see Ali's car is parked in front of the Tini Bikini. The Tini Bikini is the tanning salon that's situated between Lovers, and Paul's Teriyaki and Burger. I suppose they must have dropped in to the teriyaki place in order to keep Rosie in a mellow mood. During this latest pregnancy, Rosie has been craving their eggdrop soup. For Ali and Leah to deny Rosie of her daily fix would be putting their own lives at risk.

Continuing along Martin Way, I see Safeways up ahead and decide to do some grocery shopping. As Edward and I will be gone for a month, I'm trying to reduce the amount of fresh food kept in the refrigerator.

Lean cuisine, here I come.

Oh, yay.

And yes, I'm being sarcastic.

-oo0oo-

I'm perusing the meal-for-one options in the frozen food section - deciding between macaroni cheese or sesame chicken - when Radiohead's cover version of 'Nobody Does It Better' starts playing from deep within my handbag. Instantly, I drop everything and rummage through my bag to find my phone before it goes to voicemail.

"Edward?"

_"Hey, beautiful. I'm at the hospital…"_ instantly, my heart drops into my stomach, thinking the worst of the worst, _"…and I'm standing here with three rather pissed-off ladies who want to know where you snuck off to. Where are you?"_

I relax slightly, realizing he's come home early from the U.K., and he's at my office, facing the wrath of my co-workers, not lying broken and bleeding in an Emergency Room somewhere. Although, that status could potentially become a reality should Edward refuse to inform them of my whereabouts.

"Listen to me carefully," I say slowly, so there's no mistaking my words. "Tell them that I'm not well, I went to see a doctor, and I'll see them tomorrow afternoon at Esme's."

_"Okay," _he says, drawing the word out.

"Oh, and the boatworks rang, so you should probably head over to the marina right now. The boat's about to go back in the water and one of us needs to inspect it, but can you call me back as soon as you get there?"

I can hear Maggie badgering Edward in the background, demanding that he hand over his phone so she can speak to me.

_"Um, sure... Love you."_

"Love you too. Speak to you soon. Bye."

I hang up quickly before Maggie can get on the line.

-oo0oo-

Fifteen minutes later, while I'm loading the last bag of groceries into the trunk of my car, Radiohead again blares from my phone.

"Hey, Edward."

_"What's going on? Are you really sick?" _

He sounds concerned, and now I feel a bit guilty for making him worry unnecessarily. After closing the trunk, I make my way to the driver's side door and get in.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just avoiding certain people. You wouldn't believe what I've been putting up with today." I huff.

_"I see."_

"Anyway, you're back early. I didn't think I'd get to see you until tomorrow morning - not that I'm complaining..."

_"I managed to get on a standby flight, and I thought I'd come to your office to surprise you, but they said you disappeared."_

"Aww. I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you."

_"I've missed you too. So where are you?"_

"I'm actually at Safeways. Now that you're home, I'm gonna make you your favorite meal for dinner."

_"Pancakes with lemon juice and sugar?" _

"Ugh. You are so English. No, not pancakes. As I've explained before, pancakes are _not_ dinner food."

_"This coming from the woman who once ate a whole packet of Turkish Delight Tim Tams for breakfast."_

"I told you, it wasn't breakfast. Food consumed while crossing international time zones doesn't count, and I didn't eat the whole packet; I shared."

_"You gave me one; the very last one in the packet, and that's only because I woke up due to turbulence."_

"What can I say; you snooze - you lose, buddy. Anyway, I've already got the groceries, and I'm planning on making you your _other_ favorite dinner. How about pancakes for breakfast in the morning?"

_"Okay, you've twisted my arm. Shall I meet you at your place then?"_

"I was thinking that if everything checks out with the boat, maybe we could sail over to the Cove and stay there for the night. Let's make the most of the place while we still can."

When we'd returned from Australia, we were saddened to learn that Aro had sold his mom's house in Gallagher Cove, as he, Tanya, and Jane were moving to Italy. Apparently, the house had been snapped up even before it officially went on the market. In exchange for allowing the boat to be moored at the Cove, instead of at the marina, Edward has continued to act as the caretaker of the property. Over the last six months, the new owner has been slowly renovating the house, and according to Edward, he'll be moving in during the next month.

Gallagher Cove holds so many special memories for both of us, so when Edward suggested getting married there, I immediately agreed. Thankfully, the new owner was nice enough to grant us permission to hold our wedding ceremony and reception there, outside on the vast lawns.

_"You know, Maggie gave me the impression that you're meant to be doing something else this evening."_

"Ugh. Yeah, my bombastic bridesmaids organized a bachelorette party behind my back, and I found out they've hired a male stripper. I really, really don't want to go."

_"Why don't you tell them that you're just not interested?"_

"I tried, but they didn't listen... as usual. Now that you're home, I'd rather be with you anyway. Please, I need to get away from them. Let's spend the night at the Cove; just you and me."

_"Okay, but can I still have my bachelor party tomorrow? I'm actually looking forward to it."_

"Of course you can! God, I'm jealous of your plans, they sound like a lot of fun." I chuckle.

_"Thanks. So… how soon can you get here?"_

-oo0oo-

After making sure the coast is clear, I park my car in front of Sherwin-Williams Paints and head over to Lovers.

On entering the store, I see Makenna and her sister are both busily setting up displays. Makenna sees me and immediately stops what she's doing to come over and greet me.

"Bella! Lovely to see you, it's been too long!" She embraces me in a warm hug that I return.

"Hey. Good to see you, too," I say with genuine affection.

"I can't thank you enough for the last review you submitted to the blog; although, I feel I should apologize for what you went through," Makenna says, referring to the evil vibe that almost mutilated my clit, "but I have to tell you; since the review went up, the BDSM community have been buying them up like nobody's business. I can barely keep up with the demand. As soon as new stocks arrive, they're out the door."

I chuckle in response to the news. Who knew there were so many pain freaks in the neighborhood? Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

"But today, I truly have something pleasant for you to review, and it's edible. Follow me."

I cringe, recalling the last time I was given an edible assignment.

The crotchless gummy panties would probably have fared better if I had waited to put them on just as Edward was walking through the front door. I, however, had gone to bed, wearing them under my babydoll nightgown. Edward had told me that he was working late, but said he would be at my place by 10:00pm. That night, Edward's car got a flat tire, and he turned up at 11:00pm. In the meantime, I unknowingly fell asleep while waiting for him. Not only did the gummy panties look hideously ridiculous to begin with, but thanks to my body heat, they also melted and then got stuck to my pubes. Thankfully, they washed off easily in the shower, but months later, I still can't handle the smell of strawberries.

"Please tell me that it's not another pair of edible panties," I whine.

"Oh, no, I promise this is much better. You'll love it."

Dutifully, I follow Makenna to the back office, saying a brief hello to Amber on the way. Amber is setting up a large display table with various oils and massage candles.

"What's the table for?" I ask, pointing to the gray massage table behind the display. To me, it would make more sense to place the products on the massage table as a display.

"We're having our first ladies night," Amber explains, "and one of our guest speakers is giving a presentation on sensual massage.

I nod in understanding. Makenna had previously mentioned some of the other stores held a '_ladies only_' night once a month. After 7:00pm, the store would only be open for women, and there would be a couple of invited guest speakers to demonstrate new products or talk about different topics related to sex. Customers could feel free to browse the store and openly ask questions without the worry of any men being there.

Makenna opens the door to the back office, and we both enter. Immediately, she heads for a freezer cabinet and opens its glass doors. The banner at the top of the cabinet reads, "_I Scream, You Scream - Adults only ice cream and sorbets_."

After selecting two cartons, she turns around and hands them to me with a flourish. "Ta-daaa."

I look down at the cartons in my hand. One is labeled '_Very vanilla sex_', and the other is labeled '_Come-with-me cookies 'n' cream_'.

"I hope I'm not expected to slather this all over my lady parts just so Edward can eat it off me. 'Cause I have two words for you - Yeast. Infection."

Makenna laughs. "No! Read the carton."

Intrigued, I do as she asks and take a moment to read the instructions. It doesn't take long before I'm giggling and grinning.

*****_ This ice cream is intended for consumption by adult couples.  
><em>*****_ After sharing the contents with your lover, lift the pull-away tab in the base of the carton to expose a collectable plastic disc.  
><em>*****_ On the disc, is the name and description of a sexual act or position for both of you to engage in. (Illustrated depictions of positions may be included).  
><em>*****_ Enjoy._

_Disc color indicates the degree of difficulty. Collect all 100 discs and create your own sexual bucket list. _

_30 - Green Discs = Beginners - Easy, relaxed, and comfortable. You'll barely break into a sweat with these sexy acts of foreplay, but you'll have loads of fun.  
>30 - Yellow Discs = Intermediate - Acts and positions guaranteed to rock your world, but won't put you in traction.<br>30 - Red Discs = Advanced - Some flexibility, stamina, and upper body strength will be required. Not for the faint hearted. Suggest you limber up beforehand.  
>10 - Black Discs = Expert - Keep your phone handy. You may need to call 911 or a chiropractor. Attempt at your own risk. Drink plenty of fluids. <em>

_Have more than one of the same disc? Check out the disc swapping section of our website. _

"Does it come in other flavors?" I ask.

Makenna turns and opens the freezer door again and takes a big breath. "Lemme see, we've got sensual strawberry cheesecake, risqué raspberry ripple, apple pie aphrodisiac, orgasmic orange cream, ménage à trois mint-chocolate chip, passion-filled passionfruit, let's make love lemon, key lime me then sixty-nine me, mango 'n' orange multiples, kiss me everywhere kiwi, lick me there licorice, carnal desires caramel, banana split boner, ravish me rum 'n' raisin, espresso coffee ecstasy, peanut butter pleasure, and mocha chocolate climax."

"Wow… no penis cum-a-lotta Pina Colada?" I joke.

Still searching through the freezer, she says, "Nope, we're out of it. Amber ate the last one, and it's delish. I think it will be our best seller."

My jaw drops. "You're kidding me…"

She turns to look at me, shakes her head, and then bursts into giggles. "Aww shit. I can't keep a straight face. Yeah, I'm just messing with you. So, what flavors do you want to check out?"

I look down at the cartons in my hands and then move closer to the freezer. "Decisions, decisions."

Eventually, I decide on vanilla, apple pie, lemon, and chocolate, and then inform Makenna that this will be our last review for the blog. Although she's sad to see us retire, she fully understands our reasoning, and agrees that a yearly rotation of bloggers would probably round out product reviews better.

After saying goodbye to Makenna and Amber, I drive towards the marina with a huge grin on my face.

**({'})** _Would it be rude of me to suggest eating dessert before your main meal?_

No. Not. At. All.

**({'}) **_Whoo-hoo!_

* * *

><p><strong>AN ****  
><strong>**_Sono andato a scuola con lui quando eravamo giovani = _**I went to school with him when we were young.  
><strong><em>Lui mangia il moccio, l'ho visto<em>** = He totally eats his boogers, I've seen it.


	145. Chapter 145

For no apparent reason, the elderly driver in the rust bucket suddenly stops at the lights instead of following the other car through the intersection.

"Shit, shit… _SHIT!_" I slam my foot on the brake just in time to avoid a rear-end collision. A car horn blasts, and then I hear the angry curses from the Lexus driver behind me.

**({'}) **_Oh, c'mon, Mister Magoo! Anyone else could drive a freakin' bus through there. Look! There's more than enough room on the other side for both of us. Turn now. Go on… TURN! _

Thanks to my near-miss, the adrenaline is racing through my bloodstream, and my heart's hammering at a mile a minute. The initial jolt of panic is turning into a lingering wave of nausea.

The pre-holiday traffic is absolutely nuts at the moment, and apart from the geriatric dude in front of me (whose dilapidated Buick is single-handedly punching a car-sized hole in the ozone layer) I wonder what's causing the hold up.

**({'}) **_Listen up, Jackass; the ice cream is melting in the trunk! What in the hell are you waiting for? A different shade of green, perhaps? For fuck sake, green means go! __So GO!_

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel in frustration. For the last ten minutes, I've been waiting to turn onto East Bay Drive, and four times I've watched this particular set of lights change from green to yellow to red. It seems as though once the light becomes green, only three or four cars at a time can turn through the intersection before the traffic banks up.

Glancing at my side mirror, I see that the Lexus and a couple of cars further back are leaving the queue and pulling out into traffic. They are evidently in search of an alternate route. I contemplate leaving the queue, and just driving around the Buick, when the traffic light changes from green to yellow. The old dear in front of me guns the engine, and when the light turns to red, he finally makes his move, leaving me engulfed in a black plume of exhaust smoke.

**({'}) **_Old people who wear hats shouldn't be allowed to drive on the road… just sayin'. *cough*_

Looking at the clock on my dashboard, I realize it's nearly 4:00pm. Where the hell did the afternoon go?

Taking a moment to look in my rear-view mirror, I quickly check my reflection and hope I don't look too much like a crazy cat-lady. As it's such a warm day, I've been driving with the soft top down. I start fussing with my hair, but falter when something large and blindingly yellow catches my eye in the mirror.

"Fuck."

That's Ali's Durango I can see, and it's queued three cars behind me. I swear, only Alice Hale could take an unobtrusively white car and convert it into something that's visible from outer space, just so she can easily find it in a parking lot.

I sink lower in my seat and hit the switch to raise the soft top - even though I know it's pointless. The odds that there's another metallic, sea-green Porsche Boxster S in the state of Washington (with personalized plates that say "SWAN-81") are probably slim to none.

In a bitch move, as soon as the light turns green, I slowly turn through the intersection. When I come upon a vehicle in front of me, I make certain to leave a full car-length of space between us; ensuring only two cars can follow me. Thankfully, this maneuver leaves Ali and Co stuck at the lights. Given that I'm only three minutes away from the marina, Ali probably knows where I'm heading; I just have to outrun her.

The reason for the hold up in the traffic becomes apparent. At the next intersection, the road is littered with pieces of twisted metal and shattered glass. Emergency vehicles and tow-trucks are all in the vicinity of the wrecked cars, and a lone police officer is directing the traffic around the scene at a snail's pace. I take a left onto Olympia Avenue, away from the accident, and then turn right. Mindful that Ali and the other two stooges are probably on their way, I speed along Marine Drive, and with squealing tires, I turn into the boat launch parking lot. I see Edward's motorcycle parked behind the Olympic Area Rowing Center and decide to park next to it. With my phone in my hand, I dial Edward and get out of the car. He answers on the second ring.

_"Bella?"_

"Hey, I'm here. Is everything okay with the boat?"

_"Yep. She's perfect."_

"Okay. I'm in the lot behind the rower's boathouse. Ali, Leah, and Rosie are somewhere in traffic, but not too far behind me. Where can I find you?"

I pop the trunk and begin to sort through the bags. There are two large _Lovers_ bags. One is filled with ice cream, and the other has gifts from Makenna. I take out the small paper bag filled with assorted condoms, plus a few other bits and pieces, and I transfer them into my handbag, choosing to leave the rest behind – for the honeymoon.

_"We've only just launched the boat back into the water. I'm moored near the end of the ramp, next to the breakwater, and I was about to head to one of the slips in A-dock." _

"Never mind going to the slip. Sit tight, and I'll be there soon. Just be prepared to leave the moment I get on board, okay?"

_"Okay."_

"I'll see you in a minute. Love you. Bye."

I hang up and toss my phone into my handbag. Grabbing the cartons of ice cream, I place them inside one of the other grocery bags. I manage to cram four bags of groceries into three, and then lock the car. With my handbag slung over my shoulder, I lift the heavy bags and head for the breakwater. Just as I step onto the path that surrounds the rowing center, I look behind me and see Ali's car pulling into the parking lot.

"Oh, crap!"

Hampered by my heels, I decide to kick them off and manage to pick them up in one hand, all without dropping the bags of groceries. In bare feet, I try to walk as fast as I can in my tight, knee-length skirt. Rounding the building, I see half a dozen monohulls are moored just past the launching ramp, but there's only one trimaran, and it's about a quarter of the way along the floating breakwater. As I approach the footbridge, I see Edward stand, and he waves his hand above his head, signaling to me. If not for the fact that I'm currently weighed down like a pack mule, I'd be waving back excitedly.

Edward moves from his position on the ama, and crosses to stand on the breakwater. As I get closer, I note he's shoeless, wearing a pair of black and white board shorts and a marle-gray, v-neck t-shirt. He smiles, and in an instant, my heart starts beating wildly. We've been together for over a year, and whether we've been apart for three weeks or three hours, I still get a rush of excitement flooding through my body whenever we reunite. It never fails to amaze me that this gorgeous man is mine.

**({'})** _All_ _mine._

In the distance, I hear the sound of car doors slamming, and I attempt to pick up the pace. It's in moments like these that I wish I was as adept on land as I am in the water. Already, a side stitch is gripping the right side of my abdomen, and I'm starting to break out into a sweat. As I near the boat, I realize Edward is yet to start the outboard motor. He comes closer and reaches out to grab the heaviest bags from me.

"Start the motor," I wheeze. "Now!"

Quickly kissing him hello, I leap from the breakwater onto the ama before collapsing to my knees on the trampoline. Stepping back onto the ama, Edward carefully drops the bags next to me. He brings in the mooring lines and fenders before moving to stand next to the new outboard motor. He presses some buttons, and the motor roars to life.

To my right, I can see Rosie, Leah, and Ali walking along the breakwater. Ali calls out to me while waving her arms in the air and crisscrossing them above her head. I can barely hear the words. "Bella, wait!"

I look back to Edward. "Get us out of here," I beg.

Using the boat hook, Edward pushes us away from the side of the breakwater, and then he lowers the outboard motor. There's a gentle blub-blub-blub sound coming from below the transom as the propeller churns the water, bringing bubbles to the surface. When the boat starts to move at a walking pace, parallel to the breakwater, the girls run towards us.

"Edward! Stop the boat this instant!" Rosie barks.

They quickly catch up to us because the maximum speed allowed within the marina is only five nautical miles an hour.

"Stop!" Ali shouts.

"What?" Edward lifts his hand to cup the shell of his ear and pretends he can't understand a word of what Ali's saying. There's about five yards of water between them and us.

"Stop the boat!" Rosie and Leah yell in unison. The girls continue to walk the length of the breakwater, keeping pace with the boat.

I look to Edward, and he's got that mischievous glint in his eyes that I adore.

"What?" He asks again, shaking his head and smiling innocently at them.

As they open their mouths to speak, Edward pretends to lose his footing, _accidentally_ revving the outboard motor. The motor drowns out the words they are trying to say, and the increase in boat speed causes the three of them to start up a slow jogging pace in order to keep up.

In mock contrition, Edward shakes his head again and slows down the motor. "Whoops. I didn't catch what you just said," he yells, pointing to the outboard. "Sorry, can you say it again? I couldn't hear you over the noise."

Taking the bait, they try to talk to him, but again, he revs the motor. Leah and Rosie scowl at his antics, and he shrugs as if in apology. As soon as we reach the end of the breakwater, Edward waves and then revs the motor even more, and we head out of East Bay towards Budd Inlet.

"Bellaaaaaaaaaaa!" Ali's voice fades in the distance.

I blow the girls a kiss, give them a wave, and grin. "See you tomorrow," I shout.

The girls are left standing at the marina with their hands on their hips and nowhere else to go. If looks could kill, we'd probably be dead. Turning to look at each other, Edward and I snicker.

Once we are well past the breakwater, Edward turns off the outboard motor and raises it out of the water. He attaches the tiller extension to the rudder, and I study him in fascination as he moves towards the mast, first hoisting the mainsail and then unfurling the screecher. I love watching him when he's in his element. I can tell he's missed being out on the water as much as I have.

After performing a port tack, we're truly underway, and he beckons me to come to him by offering me his outstretched hand. Excitedly, I shuffle my way across the trampoline and swing my legs into the cockpit.

"Have I shown you how much I love you?" I ask.

"Not recently; but you know it never gets tiresome," he replies, grinning.

I grab his hand, and he pulls my body towards him the second my feet hit the deck. Pressing my hands on his shoulders, I force him back until he's slouched sideways on the double-wide helm seat. I hitch up my skirt, so I can straddle his thighs.

Even though Edward is still trying to steer the boat, I cup his jaw in my hands and pepper his face all over with quick kisses, interspersing them with phrases such as, "I love you," and, "So glad your home."

He chuckles at my exuberance until I finally reach his lips and deepen the kiss. His free hand roams the length of my body from my neck down to my ass. Without breaking our kiss, he sits up and pulls me in towards him.

**({'}) **_El Capitán!_

Pelvis to pelvis, I can feel Edward's hardening cock beneath me, and I adjust my position in an attempt to get closer. "I've missed you so much," I say with a sigh.

**({'}) **_I wanna ride you like a racehorse._

Edward moans and then speaks with his lips against my own. "I've missed you too. God, you feel and look so good."

**({'}) **_Damn, these stupid clothes._

His hand begins to travel along the skin of my inner thigh, when we are both jolted out of our haze of lust by an air horn. Turning to look at the source of the noise, we see two teen boys racing each other in a pair of laser sailboats.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin', asshole," the boy yells, passing on our port side."

"Nice legs," the other boy quips, also passing close to us.

"Bell… maybe this isn't the best idea right now. We're either gonna collide with something, run aground, or get arrested by the Harbor Police for public indecency."

I giggle. "Don't blame me. This was just an innocent kiss and cuddle until you decided to go and get a boner." I grind against him again, making his breath hitch.

**({'})**_ More!_

He shakes his head. "You are the furthest thing from innocent, you vixen." He kisses me and then gives me a playful smack on my ass cheek before giving it a firm squeeze.

I squeal in surprise and then laugh.

**({'})**_ More! *gurgle*_

With great regret, I move off his lap, rearrange my skirt, and take a seat beside him.

**({'})**_ N- Noooooooo!_

"I'm so glad you're back," I say again, snuggling in as close to him as I can. I wrap my arms around his body, throw my legs across his lap, and rest my temple up against his collarbone. Sighing in pleasure, I savor our physical connection, such as it is.

"It's good to be home again," he replies, wrapping his free arm around my shoulders and kissing me on the forehead. He hums in pleasure as my fingers wander up his back and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. After a minute or two of silence, where we've just enjoyed being together again, he asks, "So, what's in the bags?"

"All the ingredients for making Phil's Aussie hamburgers with the lot."

Edward's eyes light up and I swear I can almost see a little Homer Simpson style drooling starting at the corner of his mouth.

"I also bought a new skillet because the old one in the galley is broken. Some Stellas for you, Hard Lemonade for me, and- Oh, shit!" I exclaim, suddenly remembering I've got cartons of ice cream and sorbet turning into slushies. I scramble to extricate myself from his body. "Let me put this stuff away, and I'll be back."

Just as I'm about to collect my bags from the trampoline, my phone starts playing Pearl Jam.

"Ugh. Just leave me the hell alone," I whine.

"Who is it?"

"It's Leah calling me again."

"Just ignore her."

I'm about to decline the call when I decide to mess with her instead.

I hit 'Accept' and in a husky, seductive voice I say, "Hi. You've reached the BDSM hotline. I've got a couple of my pets tied-up and gagged in the dungeon, so I'm unable to take your call. After the safe word, leave your number, a list of your transgressions, and then bark like a dog. Your Mistress will get right back to you with your punishment as soon as she can. Your safe word is floccinaucinihilipilification."

"_Bell_-" I quickly hang up.

"I've always wanted to do that," Edward says, chuckling.

"You want to be dominated and made to bark like a dog?"

"What? No! I mean answering the phone like that. Although now you mention it, I suddenly have a mental image of you in a tight, latex body suit. What are you planning on wearing for Halloween this year?" He raises a questioning eyebrow.

I snicker. "You mean to say you've never pretended to be someone else on the phone?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"I remember shortly after 'The Elf' movie came out - my mom would answer her home phone with, "_Buddy the Elf – what's your favorite color?_"

"Yeah, I can imagine Ren doing that."

I start laughing when I remember something else. "Two years ago, when Ali was living with me, she answered the phone with, "_Perverts Anonymous – Please state your full name and address." _

At first, Edward's expression is confused, but when the penny suddenly drops, he rolls his eyes in amusement.

"It was even funnier when it turned out the caller was my dad," I add. We both laugh.

After flicking the switch to silence all calls and messages, I begin to pick up the bags again.

Edward's phone rings, and it's the White Stripes. "Should I?" he asks.

"Now's your chance. Let's see what you can do, rookie."

"What should I say?"

"I dunno. Just say anything that comes to mind, but make sure you do it in a silly voice. Put her on speaker too; I wanna hear what she says."

Edward answers the phone, putting on a Scottish accent. "Sooth Pujit sperm benk - ye wenk it, we benk it!"

_"South Puget Sperm Bank? Ugh. Edward, you are so puerile," _Rosie complains, clearly unamused.

I stifle my giggles, and he grins at me cheekily.

"Thaur is nae Edward haur. Can ah help ye? Ur ye interested in makin' a deposit?"

_"Why would I make a sperm deposit? I'm a woman, you moron!"_

"Och! Mah mistake. It's jist yer voice is raither masculine. A withdrawal 'en - fur ye an' yer beanflicker bidey-in."

_"Beanflicker bidey-in? Excuse me, but did you just call me a lesbian?" _she growls.

"Ah am nae judgin' ye, ye ken."

I can see Edward is trying really hard to rein his laughter in, and that's even funnier than what's being said.

_"Just put Bella on the phone for me," _she says in an exasperated tone.

"Sorry, but naebody ay 'at nam works haur, either."

_"Stop jerking around and put her on the bloody phone, Edward!" _ Rosie is yelling now.

As though he is speaking to someone who is hard of hearing, he yells back into the phone. "Jist listen noo. Ye called th' sperm benk, loove. Aroond haur, only th' clients ur permitted tae jerk aff. If it's th' phain sex hotline yoo're efter, yoo've got th' incorrect number. Cheerio th' noo, an' hae a guid day." He ends the call.

I burst into gales of laughter and applaud. "Oh my God, that was hilarious. Where did you learn to speak like that?"

"I think I was channeling the voice of my old commanding officer." He chuckles.

"Not bad for an amateur." Taking the phone from him, I turn it off and toss it into my handbag. "Remind me to buy you a kilt for next Halloween." I give him a smirk and wink.

"Sure." He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows in return.

**({'}) ***_spasm_* _Thank you for that mental visual._

Laden down as I am with my groceries, handbag, and heels, it's a tight squeeze as I descend the companionway ladder. Dumping everything onto the saloon table, I smile in contentment and begin to pack everything away. The cartons of ice cream, as predicted, have melted somewhat, so I put them in the freezer compartment and hope they'll be frozen again by the time we reach the cove.

With everything packed away, I retrieve the condoms and other goodies from my handbag and hide them in one of the overhead storage cabinets above the saloon. Pausing to take a look around, I take in a deep breath and smile because I'm happy to be here. I love this boat – it's my home away from home. I head to the V-shaped forward berth, where we sleep, and I change into a blue tank-top and a pair of black running shorts. I then embark on getting some fresh air into the musty-smelling cabin that has been locked up for the majority of the past three weeks.

The last hatch to open is in the stern berth - below the cockpit deck. After moving the companionway ladder out of the way, I awkwardly crawl through the gap, push aside what appears to be some bags containing the new sails, and I open the overhead hatch of the cave-like berth. After grabbing our life jackets, I use the hatch as my exit to get back on deck. I don my life jacket and approach the helm seat. I toss Edward his life jacket, and he shifts over and offers me the tiller.

"Care to take us to Gallagher Cove, beautiful?"

I smile and take the tiller. I need all the practice I can get at the helm before we go on our honeymoon.

-oo0oo-

After sailing for nearly an hour and a half in light winds, Edward tells me that I need to practice changing a sail by myself.

It's a slow process, but I manage to do it with little prompting from Edward. When I pull down on the halyard, to raise the new mainsail, new words come into view.

_La Serenità._

"You renamed her!" I jump down, winch the halyard the rest of the way and then cleat it off. I walk across the trampoline and step over Edward's prone body in the process. I look down and discover the old name '_My Solitude_' has been replaced on the ama too. In my hurry to get on board, I must have overlooked it.

"Hmm?" Edward murmurs, before looking up at me from his book. Shirtless, he's lying down with his upper body propped up by the folded life jacket under his chest, and his chin is resting on his left forearm.

"The boat – you gave her a new name. _La Serenità. _That's_ The Serenity_, right?"

He smiles. "Do you like it?" He rolls over, closes his book, sits up, and then tosses the jacket into the cockpit.

"Yeah, I do. I told you before that '_My Solitude'_ was an emo name for a boat."

He nods. "I know, but it was the name the previous owner bestowed upon her; I just never bothered to change it – until now."

"I heard it was bad luck to change the name of a boat."

"Yeah, if you believe in silly superstitions," he scoffs. "This is _our_ boat, and serene is exactly how I feel when I'm out here on the water, especially when I'm with you." Edward scoots across the trampoline and moves to the helm.

"Oh, I see. So it's _our_ boat now… and yet _you_ were the one to rename her without even consulting me." I take my place back at the helm next to Edward and take up the tiller. He wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"I consulted you - it's just that there's no way in Hell I was going to let you and Ali name the boat after Renee and my mum. Seriously… _Renesmee?_" He visibly shudders, and I snicker.

Two months ago, at Rosie and Emmett's wedding reception, Ali, Jazz, Esme, and I had jokingly discussed new names for the boat, but Edward had said all of our suggestions were horrible.

"Hey! We were only joking. And if you rightly remember, I was a little tipsy at the time, so I was probably just slurring my words together."

"Sure you were. I'll just keep that in mind when you try to call our kids daft names like Pilot Inspektor, Blue Ivy, Honey Boo Boo, Suri, and Apple."

**({'}) **_If you think we're having that many kids, you can think again!_

"You mean I can't name our daughter something like Peaches, just like Ali?"

"Definitely not. There will be no naming of kids after any fruits or vegetables." He chuckles, and his arm moves around my neck and tightens to put me in a gentle headlock before he kisses me on the forehead.

"What about months of the year – like my niece?" Leah and Jacob's daughter had been born on her predicted due date – April Fool's Day – and then they went and named her Mae June Black.

**({'})** _Some parents are just cruel._

"No."

"Places… or cars?" I ask.

"No."

"Animals or plants?"

"No."

"And not after any planets, either?"

"That's just stupid crazy talk."

"Dammit." I stomp my foot in mock indignation. "You mean I can't name our children, Mars, Venus, Moon, and Uranus?"

**({'}) **_There's still way too many heads in that head count! I hope you plan on having Caesareans._

"Bloody Hell… what will you think of next?" Edward shakes his head in disbelief at my ridiculousness.

"I dunno, Edward. Maybe we should call off the wedding for a while and have pre-marital counseling or something. This could be a deal-breaker."

"Are you high right now?"

"You know I'm kidding, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He gives me a wry grin. "So, Uranus… would that be for a boy or girl?"

I pretend to ponder the question seriously. "I think it could be for either gender. You know, kind of like the name Taylor."

He nods in understanding and then snickers. "Just think of it, Bella… our lives would revolve around Uranus."

I giggle at his joke and play along. "Yeah. I wonder who'll be the first to kiss Uranus."

"That would be you." He laughs.

On and on the _Uranus_ jokes continue.

"Uranus is stinky."

"It's time you bathed Uranus."

"Uranus has gotten so big!"

"Uranus has been disobedient and must be punished."

"Uranus needs to sit on the naughty seat."

By the time we reach the mouth of Gallagher Cove, we've both dissolved into fits of giggles and my stomach muscles are beginning to burn. I love it when we both get silly like this.

"Uh-oh," Edward says, looking around us. His expression is suddenly serious.

"What? What's wrong?" I search our surroundings for a problem.

"Don't be alarmed, but I think Uranus just swallowed something nasty."

I smack him on the chest. "You idiot… I thought you were being serious." I burst into laughter again.

"I love Uranus," he says, kissing me on the temple and giving me a gentle noogie.

"That just sounds so wrong." I giggle and give him a purple nurple in retaliation. That'll teach him for not having his life jacket on.

On the right side of the cove, we see John and Leona are sitting on their private dock. Leona waves in greeting, and I wave back. John is holding a bottle of wine, and Leona is holding out a wine glass. As we pass, John raises the bottle in the air; a silent invitation for us to join them. Edward waves but shakes his head, declining their kind offer. John nods in understanding, turns back to his lovely wife, and continues to pour the wine.

Approaching the apex of Gallagher Cove, we see the new owner of the property is there, and he's standing on the lawn in front of the three-story high rows of geometric windows that dominate the rear of his house. He looks to be in deep conversation with the _fabulously gay duo_ - Marcus and Felix. Felix is waving his hands around excitedly.

Last February, when we first met Connor, he asked if we knew of any reputable designers and decorators. I had recalled young Caius's daddies were both in the interior design and decorating business, so one Sunday morning I asked them for one of their cards.

After dousing the sails, we drop the outboard and then slowly motor towards Connor's dock. On seeing us, Connor waves, as do Marcus and Felix, and we wave back. Due to the low tide, I raise the daggerboard and rudder, so we don't run them aground as the boat nears the shoreline. Once we are parallel to the little dock, I throw the fenders over the side, leaving Edward to loop a line around the mooring cleat with the boat hook. I then make my way below decks to start dinner.

In the mood for some music, I pair my iPhone to the Bluetooth speakers. I hit shuffle, and a familiar drum intro is followed by the unmistakable chords of Stevie Wonder's '_Superstition'_. Bobbing my head in time with the music, I make several trips to the refrigerator to gather the ingredients I'll need. As I head back to the cabinet that contains the pots and pans, I hear Edward chuckling from behind me, and I turn around to look at him.

"Aww. Don't stop." He pouts.

"Don't stop what?"

"Dancing."

"I wasn't dancing. Was I?"

He nods and makes his way down the companionway ladder. "Yeah, you were," he says reaching out to grab my hips. "You were doing this sexy little wiggle with your arse as you were moving back and forth from the fridge to the stove." To the beat, he sways my hips from side to side until we're dancing – except it's more like grinding since we're in such confined quarters.

I wrap my arms around his neck. "I wasn't dancing; I was just walking to the beat. I defy anyone to walk normally while listening to this song."

"If you walked like that all the time, I'd follow you absolutely everywhere. It was sexy as hell." He pulls me in close to his hips, and then starts to knead my ass in his strong hands while kissing my neck. I'm starting to pant when he murmurs next to my ear, "Do you have any idea of how much I've missed you, Miss Swan, soon-to-be Missus Cullen?"

I reach down between our bodies and palm his cock over the outside of his shorts. "I think I have a pretty good idea, Mister Cullen."

**({'}) **_About damn time. *glug*_

Just as his hand reaches up inside my tank top to fondle my breasts, we are suddenly interrupted by a male voice. "Hello? Permission to come aboard?"

**({'})** _Bastard!_

As though we've been electrocuted, we spring back from each other, and I return to the task of getting the skillet out of the cabinet.

"Hey, Connor," Edward calls out, quickly adjusting the one-man tent pole that's pitching inside his shorts.

A few seconds later, Connor appears at the companionway and squats down to speak with us.

"Hi Connor." I give him a small smile and a wave.

"Hi, you two. I hope I'm not interrupting, but I wanted to give Edward a new set of keys before I go. I'm heading out of state for a few days, and I was going to drop them off to Esme at The Broho, but since you're here…"

**({'})** _As a matter of fact, you are interrupting, so kindly fuck off!_

"Yeah, sorry. It was a last-minute decision to sail down. I just got back into town today, and I didn't even think to check if you were here," Edward says.

"I wasn't planning on being here either, but Marcus and Felix wanted to go through a few ideas with me. Anyway, you might want to come over to the house. There are a few new things you'll need to know about the place before the wedding."

Edward ascends the ladder to speak with Connor, leaving me to continue with dinner preparations.

-oo0oo-

Fifteen minutes later, I hear movement on deck. I look through the companionway and watch in confusion as Edward brings in the mooring line. Using the boat hook, he pushes us away from the dock, lowers the outboard motor, and then starts it up.

With burger patties, bacon strips, onions, and eggs, all cooking on the stove top, I'm unable to leave the galley, so I yell, "Edward? Where are we going?" however, he doesn't hear me. After a few minutes the outboard motor stops, and now we're stationary in the center of the cove. Edward walks from the stern to the bow and then back.

"What's going on?" I ask, when he reappears.

"I took us to the mooring pennant. Mrs. Stanley's out on the prowl, and I don't want any more interruptions," he says, descending the ladder.

I nod in agreement. Anna '_Cougar_' Stanley, Connor's nearest neighbor, is much like her niece Jessica – a handsy whore. Whenever she sees Edward, she always makes a beeline for him and has been known to invite herself aboard the boat.

"Now… where were we?" Edward asks, moving to lean in close behind me.

He rests his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist. Suddenly, I'm distracted by the sensation of his lips, teeth, and tongue, on my earlobe. Then his fingers dip inside the waistband of my shorts. The spatula drops from my hand with a clatter, and I reach behind me to grip the back of his neck.

**({'})** _Finally!_

"Bella…"

**({'})** _Not interested. No more talking...just keep… rubbing._

"Ah…Yeah?"

He chuckles. "The onions are burning."

"Shit."

**({'}) **_*groan*_

-oo0oo-

**6:30pm.**

Edward moans in satisfaction. "Uh. God, Bell… that… that was the best – ever." He closes his eyes, collapses back onto the curved saloon seat, and rests his hand over his taut abdomen. "I don't think I can move," he groans.

Picking up his plate and empty beer bottle, I move them to the bench top, happy in the knowledge that Edward thoroughly enjoyed his welcome home dinner. I'm not surprised he's feeling so full - he ate two massive burgers with the lot.

"That's a shame." I pull off my tank top, unclip my bra, and drop both items to the floor. "I guess that means you've left no room for dessert."

"Dessert? I suppose I can always make room for dessert if you've gone to the effort." He opens his eyes, and they widen in surprise. Quickly, he sits up straight. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why are you undressing for dessert?"

"We're going to have _Very Vanilla Sex_."

His face is a picture of confusion.

After wiggling out of my shorts and panties, I kick my clothes toward the forward berth and then move to stand buck naked before the open refrigerator. "Don't just sit there and gawk, it's your turn to get undressed."

As soon as I bend down to open the freezer compartment, it seems the board shorts wearing man who could barely move a moment ago, suddenly developed super-human speed. He's naked, and rubbing his body up against my ass. Seriously, any time we're alone, and I have to bend over (naked or clothed), it's as though his dick becomes a divining rod searching for water, or a heat-seeking missile.

I snicker and squirm against him teasingly before reaching a hand back to smack him on the side of his thigh. "Edward…" I warn.

"Aw… you're no fun," he whines and then pinches my butt.

I squeak and stumble forward slightly. "I wouldn't mind so much, but the blood's rushing to my head, and I'm about to fall head-first into the refrigerator."

He lets go of me and steps to the side. "You were the one who said you wanted sex, and then you went and assumed '_the position_'."

"We'll get to that eventually. In the meantime, there's this…" I reach for the carton of vanilla ice cream and pass it to him. "We have some homework to do."

"Ice cream?"

I turn to face him. "I told Makenna that this would be our last assignment for the blog."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "When did the Lovers store turn into a Dairy Queen?"

"There's a new line of adult's only ice cream and sorbets, and they just came onto the market today. Read the carton."

Taking a seat at the saloon table once again, he reads the instructions. I retrieve the rest of the cartons from the freezer and place them on the table before grabbing some spoons from the drawer. Before I'm even back in my seat, Edward has turned the carton of Very Vanilla Sex ice cream upside down, and he's pulled out the tab to reveal the disc hidden inside.

It's a red plastic disc.

We both make a grab for it, but he's too quick. Edward looks at the disc and then laughs deviously.

"What?"

"Are we really doing this?" He raises a single eyebrow.

"That depends..." I snatch the disc out of his hand to see what he's laughing at. My jaw drops. "No freakin' way!" I throw the plastic disc over my shoulder and it lands somewhere on the floor near the ladder.

He chuckles and picks up the carton of _Mocha Chocolate Climax_. I do the same with the carton of _Apple Pie Aphrodisiac_, and we invert them and pull the tabs. There are two more plastic discs before us - red and black. I pick up the red disc, scowl, and then toss it over my shoulder with a huff.

"Butt sex again?" Edward asks with a knowing look.

I nod and roll my eyes. "What did you get?"

Edward turns the black disc from side to side and studies it carefully. Handing it to me, he grimaces. "It looks bloody uncomfortable - well… for the woman."

I look at the disc and can feel my eyebrows rocket up into my hairline before settling down into a furrow of perplexity.

_The Pile Driver Position._

"I'm not even sure this is physically possible. I'm bendy, but not _that_ bendy. Plus, I'm pretty sure it's too late to find a neck brace to match my wedding dress and shoes."

Edward plucks the disc from between my fingers and tosses it in the vicinity of the other two discarded discs. It ricochets off a bulkhead and lands on the bench top near the sink. He opens the cartons of vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Not fully frozen, they have the consistency of soft-serve.

"Unfortunately, they got a bit melted in the trunk," I explain.

"You gonna open the last one?" he asks, indicating to the carton of _Let's Make Love Lemon_ sorbet before taking in a generous spoonful of chocolate ice cream. His eyes seem to light up in approval at the taste.

"Is it good?"

He responds by offering me a spoonful. It's a bit drippy, but the taste is rich and chocolaty. I flick my tongue out to lick my lips, and from the flash of desire evident in Edward's eyes, it's a movement that doesn't go unnoticed.

I pick up the last carton and turn it over. After opening the tab, a red disc falls out, and I pick it up to read it.

"If it's butt sex again, it's the universe's way of saying we have to do it; you know you secretly want to," he says, smirking while bringing a spoonful of vanilla ice cream to his mouth. Before Edward can get the spoon to his lips, the ice cream slides off and drops into his lap. He jumps slightly and yelps, "Shit, that's cold."

"Did that just land where I think it landed?" I ask, smirking back.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Yeah, that's right – go ahead and laugh at my misfortunes."

I shrug. "It's just the universe's way of punishing you for saying we've got to have butt sex."

I watch as Edward moves out from his seat and burst into laughter when he stands. The melted vanilla ice cream must have landed on his balls, and because he's standing up, it's now dribbling down his left inner thigh.

"You look like you've just jizzed yourself."

"Ha-ha, funny lady." On his way towards the head, he swipes his palm along the inside of his thigh and then smooshes his hand on my left boob, leaving behind a cold, sticky, vanilla hand print.

My jaw drops and I gasp. "I can't believe you just did that!" Grabbing the carton of vanilla, I scramble out of my seat and stick my hand into the ice cream, but he's too quick for me, and I watch in disbelief as his firm ass disappears behind the door of the head.

"You can't hide in there all night, Edward."

"You've gotta sleep sometime." I hear the sound of running water. "I should have just pushed your head under the table and made you lick it off," he calls out from behind the door.

"You know I don't like nuts on my ice cream," I call back.

"You think you're hilarious."

"Oh, I know I am."

The ice cream is starting to trickle down my wrist, so I flick the handful back into the carton and then lick the remains from my fingers. I leave the vanilla ice cream on the bench top and put the rest of the cartons inside the freezer compartment. We'll try them another time once they are properly frozen. As I'm cleaning my hands and boob with a wet wipe, I spy the red plastic disc on the table.

_The Dancer Position:_

_Face each other (like regular Missionary, but upright). The receiver lifts either leg, causing the knee to bend at a ninety-degree angle. The giver grips the receiver's leg, thigh, or buttocks for leverage while thrusting. This position is tantalizing because it's often thought of as the "I need you right now" position. It's a good position for outdoor sex or sex in a confined space, such as a closet, shower, or public restroom. _

**({'}) **_Are you thinking what I'm thinking?_

After selecting the playlist I want on my iPhone, I turn up the volume loud enough to ensure Edward can hear it. Leftfield's '_Song Of Life_' starts to play as I reach up to retrieve a condom from the cabinet above the saloon table.

Before I can knock on the door, Edward abruptly opens it and looks directly at my boob. He smirks. "Have I mentioned my fondness for Nipplepolitan ice cream?" he asks, before leaning forward to lick my nipple.

"Too late." I push him back into the confined space that is _the head_, and I squeeze myself in after him. He looks confused. "Do you realize this is the only place on this boat we haven't had sex?"

Edward grunts when the cover that protects the roll of toilet paper scrapes the side of his knee. He reaches down to soothe the pain with his fingers, almost face-planting into my boobs. When he stands up again, his shoulder hits the underside of the medicine cabinet. "That's because there's not enough room in here," he says spinning me around until I'm standing in front of the toilet. He looks as though he's about to leave.

Grinning, I hold up the red disc to his gaze. "Au contraire."

He plucks the disc out of my hand, and as he reads it, I take the opportunity to sit down on the lid of the toilet. Using the flat of my tongue, I lick along his inner thigh in a long, languid stroke while caressing his cock. He's hard in a matter of seconds, and before he even registers what I've done, I've managed to roll the condom down his entire length.

He looks down, and his brow furrows. "Bella?"

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

"It's a condom."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious; I can see that."

My hand pauses. "You don't like it? Is it too tight?"

"It looks funny."

"In what way?"

"The color."

I smirk. "You don't like black condoms?"

"Do you have a thing for necrophilia? The color makes it look dead." He grimaces but then smiles cheekily, letting me know he's not being serious – as usual.

Rolling my eyes at his teasing, I go back to stroking his cock. He breathes shakily when my hands work in tandem; one stroking his cock as the other gently massages his balls between my thumb and fingers. "It's not rigor mortis that's making you this hard for me, is it?"

He snickers and runs his fingers around my ears, tucking my long hair behind them. "No. That's all down to the sight of your naked body, and your… exceptionally… uh God… talented hands."

"Good. Just checking."

We chuckle, but soon all jokes are forgotten when Edward's fingers run through my hair and tangle themselves at the back of my neck. With a gentle tug, he urges me to stand. He begins to kiss me, alternating between expertly nibbling at my top lip and sucking and pulling on the lower one, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure. Each time his tongue sweeps along the inside of my mouth, a million minute electrical charges race throughout my body.

Fingers glide down the length of my waist; his thumb tickling along the skin of my belly. Ever so softly, he slips his hand down between my slightly parted thighs, and my breaths become erratic as his long fingers move in slow, teasing circles around my clit. He occasionally dips them inside, testing to see if I'm ready for him. Every single time his fingers withdraw, my inner walls involuntarily clench - as if they can somehow hold onto him, forcing him to stay inside.

From the speakers in the saloon, I can hear the tempo of the song accelerate and I close my eyes and rock against his hand in time to the music as he continues to tease me softly. His mouth moves to my neck, drawing another soft sigh from my throat as he nibbles, sucks, and licks my skin. Needing to anchor myself, my hands find his shoulders, and I lift my leg to rest my foot on the closed lid of the toilet – opening myself to him in a silent plea for more.

Two fingers become three, and an unbidden curse flies from my lips as his thumb moves rhythmically and firmly against my slick flesh. I'm so tightly wound up that my fingernails are starting to dig into his skin. I'm teetering right on the edge, but part of me is resisting the final fall. My body is begging me to allow Edward to make me come, but my mind is holding me back.

_I don't want to come this way._

"Edward… I want to come around your cock," I say breathily.

Reaching up to cup his jaw in my hands, I draw his mouth away from my neck and guide him back to my lips. Running my fingers into his hair and gripping on tightly, our kiss deepens. Our lips and tongues meet, dance, and retreat in a sloppy and frenzied kiss as his fingers speed up and deftly curl inside me.

"Now," I gasp against his lips. "Now. I can't wait." My body screams in protest as I push his hand away and reach for his cock. Due to the prolonged tension, my head feels swimmy, and my limbs are fatigued; a result of denying my body from a much-needed orgasm and balancing on one foot.

Staring at me adoringly and lustfully, he grips onto my thigh and hitches it high over his hip. Standing on tip-toes, to compensate for our difference in height, I tease him at my entrance, psyching myself for the first thrust even though I'm craving the sensation of his cock moving hard and fast inside me. Bending his knees slightly, Edward takes control by moving his hand between us and gripping the base of his cock.

Slowly, he pushes inside, and the stretching sensation is erotic and intense. My hand reaches around his waist, and my fingers claw at his muscular ass, urging him to bury his cock inside me - inch by glorious inch. As my body adjusts to accommodate his entire length and girth, Edward captures my mouth in a heady kiss that leaves me utterly breathless by the time we part. "I love you," he whispers.

His fingers, still wet with the evidence of my arousal, move up to cup one of my breasts. While staring directly into my eyes, he teases my nipple to attention. When his mouth drops down to suck the nipple, he slips two fingers into my mouth. "You taste so much better than ice cream," he murmurs, between licks and gentle nibbles.

Impatiently, I rock my hips, causing him to stroke in and out. Taking the hint, Edward starts to move. My arms reach up to encircle his neck, crushing my breasts to his warm, hard chest. Each stroke, each grind, each swivel, each forceful snap of his hips, and every single swirl of his tongue inside my mouth begins to fan the flames within. The glowing embers of the previously denied orgasm have been reignited.

It's so easy to forget exactly where I am in this moment because all I can focus on is Edward's tongue brushing against my own, his cock hitting that perfect place inside of me, and the sex noises. In this confined space, the sound of our skin slapping together rhythmically is loud to my ears, accompanied by my moans and Edward's sexy grunts and growls.

"You feel… so fucking fantastic." He places a quick kiss on my lips. "I've missed this; I've missed seeing you like this."

My back hits the wall, and I can feel something digging into my shoulder blade, but I don't care.

"Harder," I cry.

"Love… having… my dick… so deep… inside you." Another quick kiss to my lips and I can taste the light sheen of sweat building on his upper lip from his exertion.

After countless thrusts, his forehead drops to rest on my shoulder. "Oh Christ, Bell. You gotta come. I'm gonna… fucking come."

Moving my body away from the wall, he thrusts inside me even faster, and I feel a finger from the hand that's helping to hitch my leg over his hip is starting to gently stroke in and out of my ass. As much as I deny it, it feels so damn good, and a familiar pressure begins to build down low.

My hand flies out in an attempt to steady my body against something solid while the other grips itself tightly in his hair.

_This is it. _

"Oh… ohhhh… fuck. Don't stop, don't stop," I cry out as Edward continues to screw me hard. The climax hits me with the speed and force of a wrecking ball.

I'm temporarily robbed of sight and sound as I start to tremble against him. The intensity and duration of my orgasm, with its tightly coiled beginning, propels me into an explosive culmination, rocking my entire being. Violently, my pussy begins to spasm, rhythmically clenching and releasing his hard, pounding cock.

Edward's loud, masculine groan of ecstasy is, as always, music to my ears, and I open my eyes in time to watch his reflection in the mirror as he rides out his own surges of pleasure.

As our heartbeats slow, Edward manages to find my mouth. Small loving kisses are softly bestowed on my lips between endearments. "I love you… I love you… You're so beautiful… I can't wait until Saturday, when you'll become my wife."

**({'}) **_I love you, too. *yawn* S'cuse me, but you wore me out. Wake me up in five minutes, and I'll be ready for round two. M'kay? *snore*_

"I love you, too." I sigh.

Edward's hair is a riot, sticking up every which way. I run my fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but it's a lost cause. His face is sweaty, and his skin is flushed from working so hard in such a small, confined space, but to me, he's never looked better because I know exactly how he got that way. My body is still shaking. Exhausted and sweaty, we cling to one another as if we are all that exists in the world.

Needing to get cleaned up, we move apart from each other. My legs feel fatigued and unsteady, and my knees buckle slightly. I reach out to hold on to the vanity sink. "Whoa. I think the Earth just moved." I chuckle.

Edward chuckles with me, and then, the Earth does, in fact, suddenly move, and we are both jolted sideways in the same direction.

"What the fuck was that?" Edward hastily grabs a towel from behind the door and wraps it around his waist.

I turn to get out of the head, so we can investigate. Over the sound of of Death In Vegas playing '_Hands Around My Throat._'_,_ we can hear a horrible grating, grinding noise. The boat is shuddering.

"What's that noise? Did something hit us?" Finding my shorts and top on the floor, I frantically start to put them on.

"For some reason, I think we're moving close to the shore. With the low tide, the daggerboard is probably dragging along the sea bed," he says, ascending the ladder. Halfway up, though, he turns, steps down, and then reaches under the towel.

I giggle when I realize he's removing the condom. As I walk towards him, he seems to fluster, debating where to discard the condom. I take it from him and toss it into the half-eaten, molten remains of the vanilla ice cream carton sitting on the bench top, and then close the lid on it. It was going in the trash anyway.

"Why are we even moving?" I ask as I climb the ladder after him. "Didn't you moor us to the pennant?"

My question is answered when I arrive on deck. Edward quickly grabs the red control line and pulls up the daggerboard to prevent any more damage while I rush to lift the rudder out of the water.

Looking towards the bow, I'm mystified as to why we're being towed by what appears to be a Harbor Patrol boat - that is until I turn to look at the shore. I groan at what I see.

Leah, Ali, and Rosie are all waiting on Connor's dock, along with Seth's girlfriend, Rebecca.

It seems our boat is being towed to the dock by Seth. How he managed to get permission to take out one of the Harbor Patrol boats for this little mission, I'll never know, but I'll make damn sure my dad hears about it.

"I guess that silly superstition, doesn't seem so silly now," I muse out aloud.

"SETH!" Edward yells angrily while walking towards the bow.

Seth had better pray that the daggerboard hasn't been damaged in any way, or he's gonna be a dead man. I'll personally kill him with my bare hands if he's fucked up our wedding day and honeymoon plans.

Before contemplating whether I'll kill my step-brother quickly or slowly, and where to discard the body, I decide to check on the state of the daggerboard.

However, my movements are halted when I see the towel that Edward was wearing around his waist, flying past me on the wind. This is followed by the sound of thundering feet, and I watch in shock as Edward streaks, buck naked, back towards the cockpit before heading below decks.

Now we're closer to the shore, I can hear the shrieks, laughter, and cat-calls from the women standing on the dock who are waiting for our arrival.

And it's then that I realize they've been joined by three more people. Esme, Sue and…

_What's she doing here? She's two days early._

"Mom?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN **

**Floccinaucinihilipilification - The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant, of having no value or being worthless. **This word is often cited as the longest non-technical word in the English language.**  
><strong>

**Scottish translation - ****_Beanflicker bidey-in_**** = lesbian lover.**

**Aussie Hamburger with the lot - It usually consists of a juicy beef patty in a bun served with cheese, sliced tomato, sliced, canned beetroot, onions, lettuce, bacon, a fried egg, mayo, and tomato sauce. Some versions are also served with a slice of pineapple. All of this = artery clogging heaven. **

**Nautical Glossary.**

**Ama(s) – The outrigger floats on a trimaran, used to provide stability and some stowage.**

**Screecher (or Screacher) – A type of headsail typically only used on multi-hulled boats.**

**Daggerboard – A removable centerboard on a small sailboat that can be lowered into the water to serve as a keel.**

**Cleat – A device consisting of two hornlike prongs projecting horizontally in opposite directions from a central base, used for securing lines on vessels, wharves, etc.**

**The Head – The bathroom.**

* * *

><p><strong>Bella's "Fuck Me" Playlist - Remove brackets to see links to songs on YouTube.<br>**

**Song Of Life - Leftfield (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/SongOfLife = Seven minutes of eargasm awesomeness.  
>Hands Around My Throat - Death In Vegas <strong>(http)(:)(/bit.)**ly/HandsAroundMyThroat  
><strong>

**BOB xxx**


	146. Chapter 146

With her hands cupped around her mouth, Sue calls out, "Hey! National Nude Day isn't until the fourteenth of July - you're eleven days too early, Ed." The seven women on the dock all laugh at her joke.

**({'})** _Hmm._ _I hate to think why your step-mother knows that particular tidbit of information. _

Ugh. Me too.

Momentarily ignoring the fact that my fiancé just did a streaker run that was witnessed by most of our female family members, and that my mom, for some inexplicable reason, is standing among them, I go back to the all-important task of checking the daggerboard. I can only pray it's still seaworthy.

Using all of my strength, I pull up the long, thin board the rest of the way out of its casing before carefully laying it down on the trampoline. At a glance, there appears to be some scuffing along the leading edge of the foil, but no breaks, stress fractures, or notches. I'm no expert, but to me, it looks okay. If Seth is lucky, he just might live to breathe another day. I stand and continue to watch helplessly as _La Serenità _is towed towards the shore. By the time Edward reappears, dressed in his board shorts and t-shirt, we're only a few yards from Connor's dock.

"Is it okay?" I ask, pointing to the six-foot long daggerboard lying at my feet. "Can we still sail on Saturday and go on our honeymoon?"

Kneeling down to examine the daggerboard, Edward says, "The scuffs are minor and are merely a cosmetic nuisance. Some of them may have even been there before because I've run the daggerboard aground once or twice while coming in at low tide. In any case, if it had been severely damaged, I've got a spare stored in Connor's garage," he informs me.

I breathe a sigh of relief before looking back at the group of women gathered on the dock. Although the potential wedding day/ honeymoon crisis has been averted, my anger level towards my step-brother and three friends has officially reached DEFCON 1.

Seth turns off the outboard motor of the police launch, and as we slowly drift to the dock, Edward throws the fenders over the side.

"SETH!" My step-brother glances up at me. "You… are… in… so… much… trouble," I hiss, pronouncing each word menacingly. "Just you wait until my dad hears how you've misappropriated valuable police resources for private purposes."

Unbelievably, he scoffs. "Who do you think sent me all the way out here in the first place, Swan? You got a problem – take it up with The Chief."

"What?" In shock, my jaw drops. I can't believe my dad sold me out.

**({'}) **_Well, of course he did! After all, he's sleeping with the enemy..._

I turn and glare at Sue who just smirks at me. Fucking traitors. That's the last time I'll ever offer to babysit Embry for their '_date nights_'.

After detaching the mooring line from the back of the launch, Seth tosses it towards Rebecca, who proceeds to tie off our boat to the dock.

"Hey Bec," Seth calls out, "if you wanna have a few drinks at the party, leave your car at Esme's and call me when it's over. I'll swing by and pick you up in the cruiser."

"Okay, will do," Rebecca replies.

I watch as Edward picks up the daggerboard and slides it half-way back into its casing.

**({'})** _Drinks? Did I hear correctly that there'll be booze at the party? Woohoo! Party, party, party!_

That's not the point. If you recall, they've also hired a damn stripper.

**({'})** _Oh, yeah, that's right… boo._

"Hey Seth, can you take me and Mom home after the party, too?" Leah asks. "It'll save Jake from having to wake Mae."

"Were you planning on drinking as well?"

"You bet I am!" Leah grins. "I've been pumping milk and freezing it all week just for this occasion."

"Me too!" Ali says excitedly. "I've got enough milk saved up to feed a small orphanage. I'm gonna cut loose tonight." Ali and Leah fist bump each other and bust out some spazzy dance moves to the music inside their own heads. From the looks of it, it must be _Gangnam Style_ because they're galloping and lassoing like a pair of idiots. I wish that song would just fucking die.

**({'})** _I swear Alice and Leah share the same brain… a very, very tiny brain._

"Ooookay! Waaaaay too much information from you two," Seth says with a grimace. "What about you, Alice? How are you planning on getting home?"

Ali stops dancing and gives Seth a salute. "I promise to leave my car at Esme's, Officer Clearwater. Jazzy will pick me up."

"You wanna ride home with us instead? Save Jazz from waking Peaches…"

Ali smiles in appreciation. "That'd be great. Thanks."

Seth starts the outboard motor and turns the launch around. I'm still glaring daggers at him when he yells, "Don't give them too much of a hard time, Sis. Just try to have some fun tonight, yeah?" In response, I give him the middle finger. Seth chuckles and then says, "See ya tomorrow, Ed, and make sure you get plenty of rest. You're gonna need it if you think you have any chance of beating me and Jazz on the race track."

"Dream on, you little wanker," Edward replies.

Seth laughs, revs the motor and heads out of the cove.

Crossing the cockpit to stand on the ama next to the dock, I put my hands on my hips as I confront the seven women standing before me with the scariest bitch-brow I can muster. Ali, Leah, Rebecca, and Rosie, at least have the decency to look nervous, but Sue and Esme look pissed. Before I can even open my mouth to inform them that I'm cancelling the wedding and eloping, Mom gives me '_The Look'_. You know… it's the one that says, '_I love you, but you've broken my heart._' I've only been on the receiving end of this look twice before, and both times it led to Mom crying - a lot.

_Fuck_.

The first time I saw this expression on her face, I was five. A month or so after my parents separated, I'd been sent to Seattle to stay with Mom for the weekend. Having made a monumentally difficult decision to leave me behind with Dad, Mom was learning to stand on her own two feet by working two part-time jobs while simultaneously studying for a degree in business administration and management.

The first day I arrived at her single bedroom apartment, Mom gave me an arts and craft set and a doll to play with while she was busy studying and cooking dinner. She had explained that the doll was special as it'd been given to her by her own mother when she was the same age as me. Being five years old, I decided to play hair stylist and fashion designer with the doll, by cutting off its hair with the craft scissors and transforming the long bridal gown it wore into a bolero jacket and mini skirt. Needless to say, Mom was seriously upset. It wasn't so much about the hair, but the fact that the doll's dress had been made from her recently deceased mother's bridal gown. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I recall Mom sobbed for hours.

The second time I saw _the look_ was when I was ten years old. Mom, after completing her degree, had finally landed a great job which enabled her to move into a bigger and nicer apartment - in Phoenix.

Unaware of the agreement that had been made long ago between my parents - I pitched a massive tantrum when it came time for me to live with Mom on a permanent basis. I had kicked, screamed, and cried all the way to the car until Mom gave up and said I didn't have to live with her if I didn't want to. In that instant, I ran back towards my Dad who was standing on the front lawn and leaped into his outstretched arms. As Dad turned around and carried me towards the house, I saw '_The Look_' on Mom's face as she followed us while carrying my bags. Once inside, Dad asked me to go to my room for a while so he could talk to Mom in private.

While I knew it made Mom sad that I refused to live with her, I just couldn't leave behind everything I knew and loved - my friends, my neighbors, my school, the teachers, the house I grew up in, my room, my tree house in the back yard, and especially my dad. I knew Dad would be so lonely without me. From the top of the stairs, I watched as she cried buckets on Dad's shoulder.

After that day, the relationship with my mom had been irrevocably altered. Although we spoke regularly on the phone, once Mom moved to Phoenix, I saw less and less of her, to the point that we were lucky if we saw each other four weeks out of the year, even less when I started my own degree, and then of course, she moved to Australia.

Breaking me out of my reverie, Mom calmly says, "It's more than likely that I'm at fault because I wasn't around as much as I would have liked to have been when you were young, but Bella Marie Swan - when did you grow up to be so rude and ungrateful?"

**({'})**_ Oh fuck… Mom is serious. You just got middle-named! _

"Wha- What?" Momentarily, I'm stunned and gasping like a fish out of water. Of all the things I thought she might say - that wasn't one of them. _How in the hell did she come up with that accusation?_

I'm about to start a tirade, when Mom launches into a guilt-trip of epic proportions.

"Do you know how much time and planning has gone into today?" she asks.

"I don't-"

Mom holds up her hand and cuts me off mid-sentence, causing my eyebrows to launch into the stratosphere in surprise at the gesture.

**({'})**_ Um… What the fuck was that?_

"Do you have _any_ idea of how much money has gone into making this day fun for you? A special day for you to remember."

"I didn't-"

Mom, once again with the hand signal, halts my protestation.

**({'}) **_Seriously - what the fuck is that? It's scaring me._

"I've had to deal with flight delays, thirty plus hours of air travel, two lengthy stop-overs, missing luggage, shitty airline food, and sitting next to a morbidly obese man with a questionable body odor in economy class. And don't even get me started on the humiliating strip search I had to endure in Bangkok!"

"Why-"

"Don't interrupt me! You have _no_ comprehension whatsoever of the lengths I have personally and professionally gone through in order to get here in time to celebrate your last days as a single woman. My store, La Belle Femme, it's in ruins. Three days ago, a hail storm caused the roof of our building to collapse, and I had to leave poor Phil behind to clean up the mess and deal with insurers and contractors on her own-"

"But-"

"Let me finish!" This time Mom points a finger at me, and I almost feel the need to take a step backwards. For the first time since I was ten years old, Mom is treating me like… a _real_ mom. "Do you want to know how many people you will disappoint if we have to cancel yet another bachelorette event for today? You've skipped out on two things already, and now we've only got the party left!"

**({'})**_ Huh? _

I'm confused. "But… I've already got my own party planned… for tomorrow afternoon," I explain feebly.

"No, you don't. Esme never sent out those invitations. Sue, Esme, and I had already organized today's events long before you decided to invite anyone to a Bridal Shower that you half-heartedly put together at the last minute."

"Y- you organized? But I- I thought _they_ were the ones organizing a bachelorette party," I sputter while pointing towards Ali, Leah, and Rosie.

"What on Earth-" Rosie starts to say, but Mom holds her hand up to stop Rosie from speaking. Unbelievably, it works on her, too.

"No, the girls didn't organize anything. Their only responsibility was to make sure you got to everywhere you needed to be on time, and to keep everything a surprise."

Sheepishly, I look over at my three bridesmaids, and they stare back at me with their arms folded and hips cocked to the side. I realize I must have been a royal pain in their asses over the last few months, thinking that they really didn't care about me and what I wanted, when, in fact, they were just doing what my mom, Sue, and Esme had asked of them.

Apparently, I've become the one thing I never wanted to be – Bridezilla.

"Honestly, Bella… or should I say, Ms BDSM Hotline? I'm crushed by the way you've behaved this afternoon; running off with Edward, and refusing to answer your messages and calls properly."

"And you, Mister Sperm Bank…" Esme says, turning to scold her son, "you ruined all of our plans. We worked so hard to coordinate everything and everyone, and you just swooped in out of nowhere and sailed off with Bella without allowing the girls the chance to say what they needed to say at the marina. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um… sorry… Mum."

**({'})** _Eloquent defense there, Eddie boy._

"Renee, Sue, and Esme had such a nice itinerary planned for you," Ali says. "They told the three of us to wait for you at your house after work. We were supposed to take you to Copper Moon for a relaxing stone massage, but when you didn't show up and refused to answer our calls, we decided to find you."

"Oh..."

_Goddammit_. I've wanted to experience one of those hot stone massages ever since Esme first told me about the one she had a few months ago. She said the massage was amazing, but they're quite pricey.

**({'})**_ Wow… sucks to be you right now._

Rosie adds, "We had no idea where you were, so we started by calling the hospital. Maggie told me that you were still in your office, so we thought we could come by and collect you, but by the time we arrived, you were gone. Maggie, Tia, and Nettie searched the building and tried paging you for over half an hour. We were left with no choice but to cancel the massage session and hope that we'd somehow find you in time for dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner," Esme says. "We booked an early table for the eight of us - a family dinner just for the girls. I must say it was a bit anticlimactic to sit down to a banquet with all of _your_ favorite dishes – a meal specially prepared by Xinh in honor of her best customer - when the honoree rudely ran off and was incommunicado."

Now I'm majorly bummed. I love Xinh's. Dad first took me there for my 16th birthday, and it's been my absolute favorite restaurant ever since. I'd happily eat Xinh's food any night of the week, and the owner and I have been on a first-name basis for fifteen years, but still…

"A-ha! But what about the actual bachelorette party, hmm?" I ask accusingly. I plan to use the insider information I'd overheard as my ace-in-the-hole. Little do they know; I have a perfectly plausible explanation for running away. "Before I left work today, I heard Tia, Nettie, and Maggie talking about a stripper at the party; that's why I took off!"

**({'})** _Yeah!_

"Stripper?" Shaking her head, my mom appears confused and incredulous. "What are you talking about? No one's hired any strippers."

"No one?"

Rolling her eyes at me, Sue says in exasperation, "Do you honestly think we'd waste good money by hiring a stripper for _your_ bachelorette party; especially after the way you freaked out at Leah's party? Jesus, have some faith."

"Huh…"

**({'}) **_You fucked up._

"Now, Bella, I understand Edward just flew back into town, although he's a day early and didn't bother to tell _anyone_ – even his own damn mother," Esme says, casting another glare at her son, "but do you think you can tear yourself away from him for one evening and come to the party?"

"We've got gifts," Ali says in a sing-song voice.

"And yummy food," Leah adds.

"Along with lots of your favorite music. They've hired a jukebox, lights, and everything," says Rosie.

"So there'll be dancing?" I ask.

"Absolutely," Sue replies, "and we've hired a frozen cocktail machine."

"Yeah?"

"Four different kinds of cocktails," she clarifies, her eyes widening with excitement. "But the best part of all-"

Mom interrupts, "Okay, okay, let's not give away all the details of the party. We need to save at least one or two things for a surprise if she decides to come with us. So what d'ya say, Bella?"

**({'})** _Par-taaaaaay!_

I turn to look at Edward.

Before I can even tell him that I'd like to go along to my own bachelorette party, he moves to stand in front of me and places his hands on my hips. "Bell, I really think you should go."

"Are you sure?" I ask, staring up at him.

"Only if you want to, of course, but it sounds like fun. Besides, you'll only get to have a bachelorette party once in your lifetime."

"Oh, really! You're quite certain of this?" I tease.

"Of course I'm sure. I don't plan on dying before you, or ever leaving, so unless…"

"I don't plan on leaving you either," I say quickly in order to reassure him.

"Good to know, but I was going to say unless you decide we should renew our vows some years down the track."

"Awww. You're so sweet. And exactly how far down the track are we talking?"

He pauses to think. "Like when we're well into our 60s... or in your case, your 70s, since you're older than me." He winks.

I smack him playfully on the shoulder. "Very funny, Mister Cullen. Keep up with the old lady jokes during our marriage, and I'll be sure to switch your Preparation-H ointment for denture adhesive paste when we're in the nursing home."

He chuckles. "You're an evil genius."

"Takes one to know one," I reply, and we grin at each other.

Mom interrupts our banter. "Some of us here are actually closer to needing a nursing-home bed than the two of you, so make up your mind. Are you coming or not, Bella? We'll soon have guests arriving at Esme's."

"I'll come on one condition."

"And what's that?" Mom asks.

As I answer, I stare directly at Sue to make sure she gets the message loud and clear. My step-mother is a pervy old woman. I saw what she did for Leah's party, and if she's had any input into this one, it's more than likely that there'll be something that'll make me want to cringe in embarrassment.

"I get the power of veto. If I don't feel comfortable with something, then I don't have to do it."

"Deal," Sue and Esme say in unison, and Ali and Leah clap their hands excitedly.

With Edward's help, Mom steps off the dock onto the ama. Giving me a hug, Mom whispers, "Thank you," before tightening her embrace and rocking me in her arms.

"I'm sorry I screwed up your surprise, Mom," I say as my tears threaten to spill over. Then I remember I probably smell like I just had hot, sweaty sex in an enclosed space, so I pull out of the embrace without being too obvious.

"Never mind," Mom says soothingly. "The important thing is that you're coming with us now, but first you'll need to get dressed." She turns around, and Sue tosses over a plastic bag. Mom catches the bag and thrusts it towards my chest.

"What's this?" I try not to grimace, and hope like hell that it isn't a lame satin sash or an embarrassing veil with little plastic penises all over it - just like the ones Leah wore for her penis themed bachelorette party. I open the bag, and I'm pleasantly surprised to see neither of those things. Instead, the first things I see are a pair of jeans and a white cowgirl hat with the word 'Bride' written on the front in sparkly, white rhinestones.

Mom says, "Don't just stand there, Bella; go and get changed. In the meantime, show me this boat of yours, Ed."

"Uh… yeah, sure." Edward leads Mom towards the bow. "Step this way," he says, "and we'll start at the very top."

I descend the steps and listen as Mom makes noises of appreciation as she takes in the exterior features of the boat.

After washing up in the head, I quickly wrap a towel around my body and dash to the forward berth just as Edward and Mom enter the cabin.

"So… this is the galley," Edward starts to explain. "There's a two-burner stove, sink, fridge- No! Don't open that!" I hear him cry out in alarm.

"Why not? It's just an ice cream carton," Mom says. "Let me look at it."

"Ugh. No, it's rubbish. It's out of date and meant to go in the bin. Give it here."

_Dear God, please, please, please, don't let Mom open the carton and find the used black condom floating in there._

"Sheesh, there was no need to snatch it from her," I hear Sue complain.

"Yeah, Ed, don't get your panties in a wad, I only wanted to read it, not eat it. I'm curious to know what sort of ice cream has the word _sex_ in its name," Mom says.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of Sue laughing. "Hey Ren, check these out. I think these go with the ice cream."

"What the-? Shit! Give me those," Edward says, somewhat desperately.

"Swear jar, Edward!" There is more laughter, and I realize Esme is in the cabin, too.

"Oh my goodness!" Mom exclaims, giggling. "How is this position even possible? Hey! Give it back; I was reading that!"

"No! It's private," Edward says.

I give myself a face-palm when I realize she must've been looking at the black disk. I really should've tidied up before they came below decks.

"Oh look here's another one…" With a gasp, Esme says, "Anal sex? Edward! Really?"

Double face-palm._ Oh, God no!_

"Give me that. Out! Everyone get out. I'll send Bella outside when she's good and ready," Edwards says, shouting over the top of the protesting and laughing women.

"Just tell her to hurry up," Sue complains, "we've got a schedule."

After taking out the white cowgirl hat, I upend the plastic bag and the contents fall out onto the mattress. Ali must have stopped by my house. She's brought my favorite pair of faded jeans, a pair of white cotton boy-leg panties and matching sports bra, a pair of socks, and my black Jimmy Choo biker boots. Folded up within the jeans is a white t-shirt that is new to me. At first glance, the t-shirt seems a little small, but as I pick it up, I realize it's a tight, white midriff top. Turning the t-shirt in my hands to look at the front, I smile and giggle when I see the words 'Mrs Cullen' written in sparkly rhinestones.

I love it.

-oo0oo-

On opening the door, I see Edward washing our dishes in the sink. "What do you think?" I ask, slowly turning in a circle to let him take in my outfit.

"I'm rethinking my decision to let them take you away from me."

When I turn around, it's apparent that Edward loves the t-shirt. From the impish grin and the flash of desire in his eyes, it doesn't take a mind reader to know what he's thinking. He wipes his hands on a dishcloth, and we move to meet each other in the middle of the cabin.

He puts his arms around my waist, and once he manages to tear his gaze from the rhinestone words on my chest, back towards my face, in a husky voice, Edward says, "Tonight, after the party, when it's just you and me again, promise me that you'll keep this hat and shirt on... and nothing else."

**({'})** _Definitely gonna make that happen. Yee-haw!_

"I'll see what I can do." I sigh as his lips begin to kiss the side of my neck, and his hands slide down to cup my ass.

I'm seriously rethinking my own decision to leave when I hear Mom's voice at the companionway. "Oh for goodness sake. Get out of there now, Bella, before I turn the hose on the two of you."

Suitably chagrined, I roll my eyes and disentangle myself from Edward's wandering hands and lips. As I make my way up the ladder, he follows me out.

Walking hand in hand towards the driveway where Esme's Honda Odyssey minivan is parked, I ask, "What are your plans for the rest of the night?"

"I might walk over to John and Leona's and hang out with them for a while, then I'll sail to Boston Harbor Marina. I was planning on mooring at Boston Harbor for the rest of the week anyway as you'll be sailing from there Saturday afternoon. Call me when the party's over, and I'll walk to Mum's house, and then we can walk back to the marina. We can spend the night on the boat. I'll ask Mum or Carlisle if they can drop us off at Swantown Marina in the morning so you can get your car, and I can get my bike. Then we can go out for pancakes like you promised, remember?"

"Sounds like an excellent plan," I say, giving him a kiss before hopping up into the front passenger seat. Esme starts the motor, and I wave and blow a kiss to Edward. "Love you," I mouth.

"Love you, too. Have fun," he mouths back and smiles.

"I will."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year.**

**In other news... **

**1) The last chapter pushed this story to over 2 million views. Thank you so much to all who have followed and marked this story as a favorite, and to those who have left a review. **

**2) ****Merci beaucoup**** to Missleez who continues to translate this story into French, and to all of the reviewers and followers there. **

**3) Robert Pattinson is currently in my town, and we aren't planning on giving him back any time soon... sorry.**

**4) Mr Bliss and I will celebrate our 22nd wedding anniversary tomorrow, but if I manage to meet Robert Pattinson in the meantime, all bets are off.**

**5) School holidays are almost over. Yay!**

**6) If on the 29th of January, you happen to see a woman with her t-shirt over her head, running around yelling, "Whoopeeeee!" it will either mean that my kids have gone back to school, or I've met Robert Pattinson and we're running away together.**

**Till next time - BOB xxx**


	147. Chapter 147

_**Wednesday evening - 8.30pm – The Cullen Home – Boston Harbor.**_

As I remove a layer of plastic wrap from a platter of cream puffs, someone turns up the volume of the jukebox outside, and '_Ball and Biscuit_' by the White Stripes blares through the open kitchen windows.

From the formal dining room, Rosie's voice is barely audible over Jack White's dirty, ear-destroying guitar solo. "Someone's … … … door, Mum!"

"I'll get it," Esme calls over her shoulder. Pointing to a second platter on the counter top she asks, "Bella, honey, could you take those trays to Rosie for me? I need to greet whoever's at the door."

"Sure." Without thinking, I gulp down the last third of my frozen mango daiquiri. Seconds later, I'm full of regret as I'm assaulted by an excruciating bout of brain-freeze. Whimpering in agony, I press the base of my right hand against my eye-socket in an effort to soothe the pain.

Esme, chuckling unsympathetically, wipes her hands on her apron and turns to head for the front door.

**({'})** _Yeah, keep on laughing, Esme._ _Just remember who'll be advising your only son when it's time to choose your nursing home._

When the pain recedes, I pick up the large, oblong platters and head towards the dining room. Passing the front door, I see Esme and her sister talking excitedly. Aunt Rachel stops me with an air-kiss and a, "So good to see you, Bella," before Esme whisks her into the kitchen to help with the preparations. On entering the formal dining room, Rosie sees the platters I'm holding, and she begins to rearrange the various items on the table in an attempt to make room.

"Wow. If Edward could see all of this food, he'd be drooling!"

Esme has truly outdone herself with the catering. Taking the platter of spinach and ricotta filo triangles from me, Rosie grins and nods knowingly.

Unable to make a large enough space to accommodate the second platter I'm holding, the one that's piled high with cream puffs, Rosie moves some chairs out of the way and fumbles with the extension mechanism beneath the table. Forced to wait, I grab a cream puff and start to chow down on its creamy goodness. Esme's cream puffs are legendary.

Rosie starts to pull the end of the table to change its shape from a square into a rectangle, but during the adjustment, the tabletop shudders violently. I notice the items on its surface are vibrating and wobbling - including the frozen cocktail machine that's busily churning margaritas, mango daiquiris, blueberry mojitos, and chocolate mudslides. If Rosie's not careful, it's gonna…

**({'})** _Protect the precious!_

Thinking fast, I cram the entire cream puff into my mouth, and using my free hand, I reach out to steady the cocktail machine. I'd hate for it to tip over so early in the evening. I've only had one cocktail so far, and before this night is through, I'm determined to have _at least_ one of each flavor.

"That's better," Rosie proclaims, once the extension panel falls into place with a heavy thud. Looking up from the table, she grimaces at me in disgust.

"Whutffff?"

"Jeez Bella, I know you love the cream puffs, but for Heaven's sake, chew. You look like a bloody chipmunk with rabies." Rosie relieves me of the platter and places it on the table.

**({'})** _Doesn't she realize we've just averted a major catastrophe?_

While I'd dearly love to correct Rosie's misconception (because small rodents such as chipmunks are almost never found to be infected with rabies) (don't ask me why I know this, I just do) right now, I'm just struggling to draw breath. My eyes are watering as I attempt to chew and swallow down whipped cream and choux pastry without choking.

As I self-administer a precordial thump to my sternum, Rosie, completely oblivious to my pain, continues to fuss with the platters, merrily twittering away to herself. "Gawd, I think we have enough food here to feed an army!"

Once my esophagus has finally stopped spasming, I gasp in response, "Nah. I'm sure if Ed, Em, and Carlisle were here, this would be demolished in five seconds flat. It always amazes me that they eat so much yet it never seems to show. It's not fair."

"True that," she agrees, picking up two cream puffs. "I wish I had their metabolisms, but since I don't, I'll have to dance off everything I eat tonight."

"Or you could always eat just one cream puff instead of two, Miss Piggy."

She chuckles, not even remotely pissed off that I called her by the nickname Edward bestowed upon her when he was just a snot-nosed, eleven-year-old boy. "Up yours, Swan. This one is for me, and this one's for the baby." Despite the fact she's holding a cream puff in each hand, Rosie just managed to double-flip me the bird, and I laugh. Turning on her heel, she steps through the open French doors, and starts dancing to Gorillaz '_Dare'_.

Needing another drink after my near-death experience, I pour myself a frozen blueberry mojito and sip it slowly to avoid another round of brain-freeze. Moving to stand in the doorway, I watch as Zafrina joins Sue in setting out extra chairs around the edges of the veranda.

After running into Zaffy at the Good Samaritan Regional Rehabilitation Center, about a year ago, we've made it a habit to catch up regularly over coffee and pastries at the office of Cullen-McCarty Charters. As promised, Edward had taken Zaffy and her husband for a helicopter joy flight for their anniversary, and her husband enjoyed the experience so much he decided to take flying lessons with Edward.

Leaning against the door jamb, I sip my cocktail and take in the atmosphere. The music is loud, colored lights are flashing, and there are pink and white balloons and streamers hanging from the veranda ceiling. I see Leah, Ali, and my mom dancing near the outdoor dining table that's holding a large collection of beautifully wrapped gifts. Beyond the veranda, I hear female screams, and this is followed by raucous laughter.

On the lawn area, not far from the edge of the veranda, Mrs. Cope is standing with two of my colleagues, Kebi and Renata. They are watching Rebecca as she picks herself up from the inflatable mat that surrounds the hired ride. After dusting herself off theatrically, Rebecca stoops down to collect the cowgirl hat that fell off her head when she was bucked off the mechanical bull. I grimace as I watch Mrs. Cope move in to take her place.

**({'})** _Let's just pray old Shelly doesn't break a hip tonight._

That's a point. After the wedding ceremony, she's meant to be babysitting Em and Rosie's girls.

With the assistance of the girl who is operating the ride, Mrs. Cope seats herself on the bull, holds onto the reins with one hand, and her pale-blue cowgirl hat with the other. She nods to signal her readiness, and the four women burst out laughing as the bull begins to spin in relatively sedate circles.

I'm looking forward to another ride or two on the bull. I've already taken a couple of rides, and it was loads of fun.

**({'})** _I beg to differ._

The music on the jukebox transitions into the next song, and when the deep bass beats of '_Billy Club'_ start to reverberate through my chest, it's impossible to stand still. I make my way over to where Mom and the girls are dancing and join in, losing myself in the music and the alcohol.

-oo0oo-

"SWANNY!" I turn around, and I'm thrilled to see Sasha, Siobhan, and Senna standing in the doorway. They approach, and the four of us embrace in a group hug and start jumping up and down, so pleased to see each other in the flesh once again. Since we last saw each other in Sydney, we've kept in contact via Facebook, email, and Skype. Senna invited us to her own wedding, but it coincided with Rosie and Emmett's, so we were unable to attend; however, I'm thankful she's able to come to mine.

They deposit their gifts on the table and join in as we dance to the '_Yeah Yeah Yeahs_'. Senna says, "Cute shirts," indicating first to my t-shirt and then to Leah and Rosie's. They are similar to the one I'm wearing, except theirs are hot-pink with the word '_Bridesmaid'_ written in rhinestones across their chests.

"Thanks. My chief bridesmaid made them for us," I say proudly while signaling to Ali, who dances towards us.

"Hi, I'm Alice Hale; it's lovely to meet you. Bella's told me so much about you all. Grab yourselves a hat and gun." Ali points to a box sitting on the end of the table that contains colorful cowgirl hats and water pistols. Siobhan picks up a pistol and takes aim at Sasha. "No! Don't shoot anyone in the face; they are filled with Tequila shots," Ali warns.

The girls all chuckle and don their hats.

"So… Mrs. Cullen, eh?" Senna says pointing to my sparkly t-shirt. "Not gonna hyphenate your surname like me when you get married? No Bella Swan-Cullen for you?"

I shake my head. "There are too many hyphenated surnames these days. What's going to happen with the next generation when all the hyphenated names start to pile up?"

"Yeah, what would happen if your kids ever decided to get married? What if baby Swan-Cullen decided to go and fall in love with baby Harrison-Palmer? You'd end up with grandbaby Swan-Cullen-Harrison-Palmer; that's what," says Sasha, giggling.

I snicker into my drink as a silly notion forms inside my head. "Yeah, good luck with getting all of that printed across the back of a team jersey!" They all laugh. "Anyway, I've decided I want my kids to have the same surname as me - that way it's less confusing."

Rosie nods in agreement. "I originally hyphenated my surname when I married Emmett the first time, but when we got married again, I decided to drop the Cullen. I figure that when I go back to work, signing Cullen-McCarty over and over again on legal documents will quickly get old."

"Besides, I actually like the surname Cullen. Cullen is a perfectly acceptable trade-off… unlike some other surnames I could mention, right Rosie?" I chuckle when Rosie rolls her eyes at me.

At Em and Rosie's wedding reception, I had casually asked her why she was taking on Emmett's surname, but had kept her maiden name when she married Paul. She had revealed it was because she didn't like Paul's surname. She claimed the name Rosalie Laycock made her sound more like a porn star than a member of the legal profession.

The rest of the introductions are made, and soon we are joined by two more guests - Athena and Megan Kavanagh. They've traveled from Australia along with Alec, Dani, and some of the other crew members of Breaking Dawn. I know Edward is looking forward to catching up with the crew as he's planning to sail the Sydney-Hobart again this year. Athena and Megan hug me warmly, and I show them around to everyone.

-oo0oo-

Hot and sweaty from dancing, I grab another cocktail and take a seat at the outdoor table across from Mom, Leah, and Ali. Mom notices me watching and mouths, _"This'll be you soon," _indicating to the two women who are sitting either side of her, showing her pictures of their little ones on their phones. I'm not even married yet, but she's already nagging me for grandkids. In response, I roll my eyes and smile, but secretly I hope she's right.

Tia, Nettie, and Maggie arrive as a group, and they immediately chastise me for taking off from work this afternoon without telling anyone. Kebi and Renata had warned me earlier that Maggie would want to have some words with me regarding my disappearing act. In my haste to leave, it seems I'd skipped out on a surprise that the staff of the Allied Health Department arranged for me. Maggie had been the main organizer, and she had no idea I'd left until my bridesmaids arrived at the office looking for me.

Maggie passes me a heavy box with a bow on it. Through the front of the box, I can see a bottle of champagne and two glass flutes with the hospital logo and Saturday's wedding date etched on them. There's also a large card that's signed by most of my colleagues. I read their lovely sentiments, congratulating me on my upcoming marriage and wishing me well for the future. I thank the girls profusely and ask them to pass on my sincere apologies to the rest of the Allied Health team.

"Yeah, ya don't look very sick to me," Maggie says, giving me a cocked eyebrow as I set the gift down on the table. "Miracle British cure?"

"No, I sort of lied about a few things, and it's partly your fault."

"How'd ya figure that?" she asks as they sit down next to me.

"I overheard the three of you talking about strippers, and it made me assume one had been hired for tonight, so I decided avoidance was the best option and ran away." I pick three hats out of the box and hand them out. Sue appears at my side and introduces herself to my colleagues. She then offers to get them a cocktail each, which they readily accept.

"When did ya hear this again?" Maggie asks, continuing our conversation.

"Today, just before I left. I was coming out of the office when I overheard the three of you at the reception desk." They stare at me in confusion as I pass them a water pistol each.

"What do you mean you heard us talking about strippers?" Nettie asks.

"You were all talking about costumes, handcuffs, lickable body oil, and tonight's party."

A look of realization crosses Maggie's face, and she laughs. "We weren't talkin' 'bout strippers. We were talkin' 'bout visitin' Lovers. Ya know... Lovers? The adult store?"

Nettie leans in close - so she can be heard over the music. "The Lovers store was holding their first 'ladies-only night' tonight, and Tia said she wanted to go, but needed some moral support. You know how she's been whining about how she's going to end up with RSI if her boyfriend doesn't man up and make a woman out of her soon."

Maggie nods and laughs. "You musta been listenin' in when we were arrangin' to visit the store tonight before comin' here to your party. This evenin' they had guest speakers talkin' 'bout role-playin' and sensual massage. When I was talkin' 'bout handcuffs, costumes, and body oil, I was just readin' out the list of items on sale from the brochure."

I slap myself on the forehead. Of course, _now_ it all makes perfect sense. I seriously need to stop jumping to conclusions.

**({'})** _Ya think?_

Once again, it seems I'd gone off half-cocked without getting the full story, and I'd let my friends and colleagues down.

**({'})** _Heh-heh. You said cocked._

Shut. Up.

"Speaking of the Lovers store, try this…" Tia, whom I realize has been somewhat quiet, up until now, thrusts a carton of a certain familiar ice cream at me and lifts a plastic spoon to my mouth. I glance at the carton as if I've never seen one before, and note that it's Ménage à trois Mint-Chocolate Chip flavor.

Not to appear rude, I take the spoonful, raise my eyebrows, make the appropriate noises of appreciation, and smile… until I'm hit with yet another episode of brain-freeze. I rub my eye-socket and moan. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."

**({'})** _What in the Hell is wrong with you tonight? I'm beginning to think Edward may have loosened some of your dental fillings earlier this evening._

I smile at the memory of Edward fucking me hard against the wall. "Mmm. Nice."

"Yeah, it's yummy, right?" Tia says, interrupting my lusty daydream.

Realizing the alcohol is breaking down my verbal filter, I quickly run the words through my head, thankful that my supposed answer made sense even though it was completely unrelated to the current topic of conversation.

"When we were at the Lovers store, they launched this sex ice cream and gave out free cartons. They also announced there's a competition to find the new couple for the '_Sex On Sundays'_ blog. Apparently, if anyone can review this product better than Tony and Rie, then they'll become the new bloggers," Nettie explains.

Maggie goes on to tell me about the concept of the product while I pretend to be totally oblivious. "… and then the ice cream comes with these sex position discs in the bottom of the carton that you collect. Looky here… I got the S_ee-Saw _position." Maggie pulls out a yellow plastic disc from her front pocket. She wiggles the disc, and the holographic image shows the illustrated couple simulating the movements.

**({'})** _*Twitch* Can we call Edward now? I want to go home and do the see-saw with El Capitán._

"What one did ya get again?" she asks Nettie.

Nettie searches through her purse. "It was… um… some sort of fellatio position. Ah, here it is – _The Throat Swab._ It's funny how we're Speech Pathologists who assess people daily to ensure they have a functional gag reflex – so they don't die from aspiration pneumonia – yet it seems we're a liability when it comes to this sort of thing." We all laugh. "All I can say is thank God I'm divorced, 'cause I honestly don't think I could do this one without vomiting." Nettie tosses the red disc back into her purse.

**({'})** _Don't knock it, 'til you've tried it, Nettie._ *_spasm_*

It must be the alcohol that's making Libby like this because I'm suddenly recalling the last time I performed this particular position with Edward. As I sucked his cock, he pleasured me with my favorite clit vibe.

**({'}) ***_spasm_ _spasm_* _Please… call Edward now!_

"Have you opened the bottom of your carton yet?" Maggie asks Tia.

"No, not yet."

"Here… let me. I'm dyin' to see what you got."

Tia raises the carton in the air, and Maggie pulls down on the tab. A red disc falls into her palm.

"What did I get?" Tia asks.

Maggie laughs. "Anal sex."

I roll my eyes.

"Seriously, hon, I think you and your beau should try regular ol' missionary sex the first time you do it. No need to freak him out any more than he seems to be about doin' the deed."

Tia sighs. "Hell! I'd just like him to get past second base! Why on Earth did I have to go and fall in love with a good Christian boy?"

"Well, you've got yourself some toys now," Nettie says, giving Tia a wink and an elbow nudge. Tia blushes, but smiles.

Maggie turns back to face me. "Hey, since you and Edward will be honeymooners, maybe you should enter the Lovers competition. You're really good at writin', and you'd get lots of free stuff if you won."

I grimace. "Uh… I'm sure no one wants to read about my sex life."

**({'})** _And the Academy Award for "Lying Her Ass Off" goes to…_

Maggie nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right. That'd be so weird knowin' exactly what your friends get up to when they're gettin' their freak on."

"Here we go ladies," Sue says placing the cocktails on the outdoor table, and then she joins in with our group. "So what are we all talking about?"

I give Maggie, Tia, and Nettie a panicked look and a small shake of my head, praying they'll catch my drift and won't start talking about sex, sex toys, or sex ice cream.

There is a brief lull in the music between songs, and I hear that the front door bell is ringing. I quickly excuse myself to answer the door when I notice Esme is engaged in conversation with Ali and Rachel.

On opening the door, I see the last guest has arrived, and I smile. It's Lauren Mallory. "Sorry I'm later than expected. Tyler's still having separation anxiety issues."

"Better late than never." Lauren leans forward to give me a hug and then passes me a gift bag. "Thank you. It's so good to see you. I'm glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. I've been looking forward to tonight. You know how I rarely get out of the house in the evening."

Lauren and Mike are on a tight budget because they are saving for their wedding and a sizable deposit on a new home. They are looking forward to getting out from under Karen Newton's roof. They've both started working full-time and put their son in daycare, but he's not coped well with the change. Last Saturday I offered to babysit just to give Mike and Lauren a whole night to them selves. Tyler was very unsettled, and it took me until well after midnight to get him to go to sleep.

I lead Lauren out to the veranda and introduce her to the people who are unfamiliar to her. Ali dances over to us and playfully jams a cowgirl hat on Lauren's head before hugging her tightly.

"Okay, now that everyone's here, it's time for a party game," Sue says excitedly.

I try to rein in a grimace as my mind imagines what games they've come up with. Surprisingly, I haven't had to veto anything yet, but the night is still young.

At Leah's party, we had to play an x-rated version of the kid's game '_Pin The Tail On The Donkey._' It was called '_Pin The Junk On The Hunk'._

To be honest, I was kind of relieved Ali went into labor during the strip show because I heard that after we left they played hoopla with an inflatable penis. There was also a penis shaped piñata, and drinks were sucked down through glow-in-the-dark pecker straws.

While I helped Ali into the car, Jazz begged me to come with him to the hospital to serve as Ali's additional support person, just in case he fainted from the sight of blood. It was just as well; because faint he did, and that was just during the epidural insertion. After the second fainting episode, Jazz stayed at the head end of the bed and focused solely on Ali's face rather than look anywhere near the business end. However, when the obstetrician held up the episiotomy scissors and explained what he was about to do, Jazz's face turned a previously undiscovered shade of white mixed with green, and he left the room - presumably to throw up. By the time Jazz came back, I was cutting the umbilical cord, so he did a quick about-face and promptly exited the room. In classic Jazz style, he'd turned up late and missed the show.

As if she can read my mind, Sue says, "Oh, don't look so worried, Bella. You get to sit back and relax for the first game. You have to be the judge."

"Okay," I say, happily sitting back in my seat with my cocktail.

"Attention ladies; on your heads, as you know, you have colored hats – purple, pink, yellow, green, and blue. I want you to stand in a group with everyone who has a hat the same color as yours. This is your team."

The first event turns out to be the wedding dress game. With four members in each team, I get to decide who will be the models.

-oo0oo-

64gig iPhone 5 purchased on a two-year contract - $399.00.

24 rolls of Cottonelle toilet tissue - $14.99.

Using my iPhone to take multiple pictures and videos of my friends and family members being dressed up in toilet paper, and then uploading the images directly to FaceBook…

Priceless.

-oo0oo-

The sight of Esme, Mrs. Cope, Maggie, Ali, and Siobhan all wearing wedding dresses made entirely from toilet paper, some complete with veils (and in the case of Esme's team – long sleeved gloves) is downright hilarious. Siobhan's outfit makes her look more like a six-foot tall mummy than a bride-to-be, and Mrs. Cope's dress splits in half as soon as she attempts to walk in it.

Esme's winning team comes forward, and I present each of them with half-sized bottles of champagne. Sue informed me that Ali helped with tonight's proceedings by hand-making or purchasing the prizes.

For the next few minutes after the dress game, we resume talking, eating, dancing, drinking, and bull riding, until a new contest is announced – The bride and groom relay.

Sue brings out five wedding dresses, tulle petticoats, lacey garters, and veils; all items that were purchased from some of the local thrift stores. Then there are five suits, complete with pants, jackets, vests, and wide, gaudy ties. After Sue explains the rules, the teams line up at the top of the veranda steps. Rather than subject Mrs. Cope to a possible heart attack, thereby putting her team at a disadvantage, I take her place. Maggie, being a rather large woman is unable to fit into any of the gowns or pants, so Sue takes her place on the team. The brides are the first to race, and we are each given a plastic bouquet of red roses to act as our batons.

"Ready. Set. Go!" Maggie yells, starting the race.

Screams and shouts echo in the night as the team captains are the first to race. Senna and Aunt Rachel, help me to get everything on, and with my fake flowers in hand, I race down the veranda steps and head for the obstacle course.

Reaching the end of the course, and coming in first, I begin to climb the ladder of the large, inflatable slide, only to be pulled backwards by my soon-to-be mother-in-law who causes me to drop my flowers.

Henceforth, Esme '_I'm-not-so-innocent_' Cullen shall be known as a cheating cheater who cheats.

After retrieving my flowers, I again ascend to the top of the ladder before making my way down the slide. After falling into the kiddie pool that's filled with bubble foam, I slip and stumble across the lawn, heading in the direction of the veranda. I ascend the steps and quickly pass the bouquet to Megan, who is already dressed as the groom. While Megan negotiates the obstacle course, I strip out of the bride outfit. We then help Senna, the next member of our team, into the dress.

Watching the spectacle of my friends and family running around in some of the most hideous wedding attire I've ever seen, is the funniest thing I've witnessed in ages. By the end of the race, I'm hot and sweaty from laughing so hard that my sides hurt.

I'm high on feel-good endorphins when my team wins by a mile, and we are all awarded with a pretty, hand-dyed silk scarf for our outstanding effort in the face of dirty tactics.

-oo0oo-

The music stops and so does the dancing and talking.

"Attention everyone. Take your seats because we're ready for the next game." We all sit down, and Sue hands each of us a ball-point pen and three pieces of blank paper; two small and one large. "Right then," Sue says. "This is a game to see how well you know the bride. Has anyone here ever played the board game Balderdash?"

There are a few nods of agreement, but most shake their heads.

"Balderdash is a game where you are given a word, which is usually a fairly obscure one, and you have to either write down the correct definition - if you know it - or else make up a definition that sounds believable. The definitions are collected, read out, and then voted on. Points go to the person whose answer got the most votes.

"This game is slightly similar in concept. The aim of the game is to determine what is true and what is false in relation to the life of Bella Swan. There are five topics: 'Bella and Edward – The Couple', 'Historical Facts About Bella', 'Bella's Favorite Things', 'Bella's Family', and 'Bella's Wedding'.

"I want each of you to choose two topics. For one of the topics, I want you to write down a true, but hopefully obscure, fact about Bella. For the second topic, I want you to write down something that is untrue, but sounds plausible. I will randomly read out the _facts_, and you will mark them down as true or false. The person who gets the most correct answers wins a prize. You've got your pens and two small pieces of paper. Start writing… now!"

After a few minutes, the pieces of paper are collected and shuffled around inside Sue's cowgirl hat. She pulls out the first piece of paper.

"Let's see who can separate the facts from the fiction. Here we go with number one. The topic is Bella and Edward – The Couple. True or false: Bella mistakenly groped an innocent man's butt at a party, thinking it was Edward's."

Naturally, laughter ensues, and I look over to Senna, Siobhan, and Sasha, and I give them a mock-scowl, knowing one of them was responsible for writing that '_fact'_. Although I did mistakenly grab Stephan's butt at the Guild Dinner, I would hardly say he was an innocent party in that whole prank Bella scenario.

"So, what do you think, ladies?" Sue calls out. "Those of you who ticked 'true', put up your hands."

-oo0oo-

"Okay… okay calm down," Sue says, holding her palm to her chest to settle down her own laughter. "Here we go - number forty two - Historical fact about Bella: When Bella was seventeen, she once uttered the immortal words, "_Do you have any idea who my father is?_" while trying to weasel her way out of a speeding fine."

The women all burst into laughter, including me. I'm thinking Sue came up with that untrue fact – my dad probably told her the real story.

"Who thinks it's true? Sue asks. Half of the group raises their hands. "Okay, Bella, true or false?"

"It's false. I got pulled over because I was driving too slowly. When I was that age, I was so scared of getting a speeding ticket that I would drive _way_ under the posted speed limit. And what I actually said to the officer was, "Please don't tell my father. He'll confiscate my truck and make me sit for my license again. Now, how much money will it take to pay you off and forget this ever happened?"

My friends and family all start laughing again, and I join in.

During the game so far, all of my celebrity crushes have been revealed – real (David Beckham /Ewan McGregor) and fictional (Spike).

It's been revealed that I have a bit of a thing for vampires, tall men, and men with English and Scottish accents. My phobias include touching raw chicken meat and chopping onions. This is why I always buy frozen, chopped onions (instead of fresh) and prefer ready-cooked chickens.

They are all aware of my unhealthy dependence on my beloved Apple iproducts, as well as my addiction to strong coffee. Everyone is relieved to know that Edward and I are not actually first cousins, second cousins, or blood relations of any sort; nor will I be wearing a white knee-length dress when I walk down the aisle on Saturday.

They all know (now) that I was once engaged to another man and that when I first met Edward, I thought he was married, but ogled him nonetheless. They also know I hope to have kids – sooner, rather than later, that we plan to sail to The Bahamas – not Bermuda – for our honeymoon, and my childhood nickname was _Bullfrog_.

"Next fact – Number forty three – Bella's Family: Bella had a grandmother named Marian."

The women all look down and mark their sheets of paper. I'm certain my mom wrote that untrue fact.

"True or false?" Sue calls over to me.

"It's false. Her name was Marie, and sadly, she passed away when I was five." I smile.

My mom pipes in, "It's from my mother that Bella got her middle name."

"If I'd had my own way, Annie's middle name would have been Marie, too, but Emmett wouldn't allow it, so she became Anne Katharine instead," Rosie says.

"No one ever called my mom Marie, though. Shortening our names seems to be a family tradition. I like people to call me Ren; Isabella always prefers to be known as Bella; Mom preferred everyone to call her Rie…"

"What a coincidence! The person I wanted to middle-name Anne after also prefers to shorten it to Rie." Rosie then turns to look at me.

Avoiding her gaze, I gulp down a mouthful of the frozen margarita Lauren just handed to me.

Instant facepalm. "Ahhh. Fuuuuuhhhh… Ow, ow, ow, ow," I whine and then stamp my foot in pain.

**({'})** _Will you ever learn?_

"Are you okay, Bella?" Lauren asks with genuine concern.

"No, I'm not. I'm suffering from a severe case of acute sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia. Please call me an ambulance immediately before I have a stroke."

"Hey Egghead, stop being a drama queen and just call it brain-freeze like everyone else," Nettie calls out sarcastically.

I drop my hand from my face and then poke my tongue at her. "You're just invidious of my magniloquent vocabulary."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, right… Just don't come crying to me next time you want my help to finish the New York Times crossword."

A few of the women chuckle at me. Thankfully, Sue continues with the next question.

"Last one! Number forty four – Historical fact about Bella: True or false?" Sue starts giggling before reading on. "Bella gave a lap dance to a guy named Tony in front of a bar full of people, and it resulted in a bar fight."

Athena, Senna, Sasha, and Siobhan all giggle. Ali appears perplexed. Rosie raises her eyebrows and whispers something to Leah.

I have a feeling Sasha or Siobhan wrote that one, although it could have been Athena. While she wasn't there when it happened, her husband had great fun recounting the story at dinner the first night Edward was in Sydney.

**({'})** _Bella… veto._

What?

**({'})** _Veto time. _

Why?

My brain is a bit sloshy from all the alcoholic slushies. There's something prickling in the back of my consciousness, but I can't seem to pinpoint what it is. The women all look up from their papers.

"True or false?" Sue asks.

"Huh? Um… yeah, it's true."

"Care to explain that one?" Leah asks over the laughter, clearly intrigued.

I start to open my mouth, but Sasha rapidly speaks over the top of me.

"Oh my God! You should have been there; it was totally hilarious. There was this jerk called Garrett at the conference in Australia, and he's married, right, but he's pretending he's not…"

Going into details, Sasha recounts how Edward sent cocktails with suggestive names to our table at the Honey Rider bar. She mentions the behavior of Garrett (the dickwad) and how he kept pursuing me even though I wasn't interested and told him that I had a boyfriend called Edward.

Senna takes up the story and tells everyone about how Edward pretended to be a married man by wearing Alec's wedding ring, and how he had introduced himself as '_Tony'_ to Garrett. Then of course, she mentions the antics that ensued as I sat and pretty much writhed on _Tony's_ lap, and how after we left, the whole thing ended in a fight between Peter and Garrett, resulting in their expulsion from the bar by security.

Everyone laughs along, but I notice some odd glances and whispers occurring between two distinct groups of friends; namely, two of my bridesmaids and my three closest work colleagues.

The results are tallied, and it's a tie between Ali and Mom.

"Shall we have a tie breaker question?" Sue asks. "The prize is a gift card from the Lovers store."

Mom waves her off. "Ali can have it. After the strip search in Bangkok, there's no way I'll go through airport security with anything remotely suspect."

Recalling her earlier rant on the dock, I turn to look at my mom. "Yeah, now you mention it, what was that strip search all about?"

Mom sighs. "It was something recommended by my gynecologist. Have you ever heard of Ben Wa Balls for exercising your pelvic floor?"

In horror, I hold up my hand to stop her from going any further. "Whoa, stop. Enough said. I'm sorry I asked."

"I'm just saying that when you get to my age, sneezing can be a problem. So if you ever decide to insert them, make sure you don't use the ones made of metal, especially if you plan on going through an airport metal detector."

"Oh the humanity... Kill me. Kill me now," I whine.

They all laugh out loud when I shoot myself in the mouth with my tequila filled pistol.

-oo0oo-

"Next party game," Sue announces, and the music is turned down low. "Everyone grab your selves a drink, then come back and find a seat in the circle."

We line up for cocktails, and I go for a Chocolate Mudslide this time. As I take my place between Mom and Mrs. Cope, I send off a few photos to Edward. He texts back and tells me that he's happy to see I'm having such a good time. He also mentions he's never been so jealous of a mechanical bull. Sue interrupts my texting by handing me a pen and a piece of card.

"For the first part of this game, I want you to think of a movie title that best describes your sex life at the moment. Write the title on the card, and then pass it back. Don't show it to anyone but me. If I see any titles that have already been submitted, then I'll give you another blank piece of card so you can come up with something else. Understood?"

Leah screws up her nose. "Do you really think this game is appropriate for tonight?"

"What's wrong with it?" Sue asks.

"Well… It's embarrassing for her. I mean- I'm sure Bella doesn't want to discuss her sex life in front of you, Ren, and Esme. Right, Bella?" From the other side of the circle, Leah looks at me questioningly. Although her words seem sincere, there's a hint of a challenge in her tone. It's as though she's expecting me to veto.

Before I can speak up, Mrs. Cope starts laughing. "Oh, you young people are so precious. You'd think you kids invented sex. How do you think you got here, sweetie, hmm? Immaculate Conception? Just because we're old, it doesn't mean we're all dried-up biddies who have lost our sense of fun. I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two."

Sue, Esme, Athena, and my mom all laugh along with her.

Shrugging my shoulders, I decide I don't want to appear to be a stick-in-the-mud. I take the lid off the pen and prepare to write.

"Okay everyone, start writing," Sue calls out.

Now I need to come up with a movie title that describes my sex life.

I think long and hard.

**({'})** _Heh-heh. That's what she said._

Shut up and help me.

**({'})** _Why? You never listen to me._

Please?

**({'})** _Anaconda!_

Erm… no.

**({'}) **_Super 8? _

**({'}) **_Big?_

No, and no.

**({'})** _Spinal Tap? _

Okay that's funny, but no.

**({'}) **_Bigger, longer, and uncut!_

There's actually a movie called that?

**({'}) **_Well, technically it's called Southpark: Bigger, longer, and uncut._

Again, I'm gonna go with '_no_'.

**({'}) **_See! I told you this would happen. You're ignoring all of my suggestions._

As usual, Libby seems to have a one-track-mind. I don't want to describe Edward's penis dimensions to anyone, least of all his mother.

How about _'_All The Right Moves'?

**({'}) **_*Yawn*_

From Dusk Till Dawn?

**({'}) **_Mmm, that one's slightly better, I suppose... _

**({'}) **_Oh, oh, I know! I've got a good one – 'Toy Story!'_

No need to tell everyone about my secret-former-life as a sex toy reviewer.

**({'}) **_Edward was right. You're no fun._

And speaking of fun, I think back on what Edward and I did earlier this evening.

**({'}) **_*sigh* Good times..._

Um…'Good Times' wasn't a movie _– _it was a 70's TV sitcom.

**({'}) **_That wasn't a suggestion; I was just thinking of El Capitán. _

Oh. I see.

**({'}) **_But I think you'll find there was, in fact, a movie called 'Good Times'. It starred Sonny and Cher._

Ugh. I hate Cher.

**({'}) **_Believe me, I know. _

**({'}) **_**Believe**__? Get it?_

And this is how I know the alcohol is beginning to affect me.

**({'}) **_Ugh… my comedic talent is wasted on you. Let's just get back to fucking in the bathroom, shall we? *sigh*_

What about 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close?'

**({'}) **_Oh, clever._

**({'}) **_We have a winner!_

Once all the cards have been collected and checked, Maggie is the only one who has to change her answer. Sue then hands us each a piece of paper. My name, plus the names of the guests are all written in a column on the left side of the page. Sue tells us that we need to write the movie titles next to the person we think they belong to. We are allowed to use the back of the page as a '_working out_' sheet.

"Settle down ladies," Sue says while mixing the cards around inside her upturned hat, "Okay, here we go… the first one is: '_I know What You Did Last Summer_'.

We all start giggling. I write it down on the back of the page as I have no idea to whom that title belongs. I'll have to wait and see what else is read out.

"_No Country for Old Men_." Reminded of her toy boy, I snicker and write down Mrs. Cope's name.

"_Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." _I attempt to hide my smirk as I write my own name.

"_All Quiet On The Western Front_." Sympathetic murmurs are given in response. I suspect that particular movie title belongs to Ali. Since giving birth to Peaches, she's complained that it's been too painful to have sex.

"_Old Yeller_," Sue calls out, and we all crack up laughing. That one could belong to Sue, Esme, Athena, Rachel, or even my mom.

Sue continues to call out the titles, and by the time she's finished we are all in hysterics. "Alright; that's all of them. I'm exempt from voting, of course, but the person who gets the most answers right wins a prize."

"Okay, I'm first," Ali announces, and she stands up. "Mine was '_All Quiet On The Western Front'_."

Those of us who got it correct give a little cheer, but then we wince in embarrassment and apologize, realizing what that means for her.

Ali just laughs. "Don't worry, it's okay. Doc fixed me up with some estrogen cream, so I'll be back-in-the-saddle by next week," she says, giving us a wink and a cheeky smile. We all laugh along with her.

"Athena! You're up next."

Athena stands and announces that her title of choice was '_Grumpy Old Men_'. I put an X next to her name, and Sue's name, as I had figured the title appropriately described my dear old dad.

Ali calls out, "Bella! Your turn."

"BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED!" Maggie and Tia both yell out in unison, and then they burst into fits of laughter.

"What?!" I turn to look at them in confusion.

"Oh come on, we know you and Edward are the writers for the 'Sex On Sundays' blog," Maggie says.

In a fit of brain-to-mouth-filter fuck up, what comes out of my mouth is not the elaborate denial I had previously rehearsed inside my mind should a sticky situation such as this one arise.

No. Thanks largely to the cocktails I've consumed, the words that actually spew forth are: "Who told you?" closely followed by, "Oh, shit!"

**({'})** *groan_* You idiot!_

"Really?" Ali shrieks, and then she looks at me accusingly.

Mrs. Cope pats me on the back, and says, "You're Rie? Oh sweetie, is it true? I love reading that blog. You're my heroine!"

"Time to pay up, girl," Tia crows victoriously to Nettie. "I told you that it was them."

Nettie reaches under her chair and brings her purse to her lap. Tia rubs her hands together while Maggie laughs gleefully in victory.

I can feel my face flush in mortification. I want to defend myself, but words seem to have escaped me. Plus, when it comes down to it… I'm a shitty liar when I'm tipsy. I look over to Esme, thinking she must hate me, but I'm surprised to see she's not angry or disgusted. In fact, she seems entirely unsurprised.

"You knew?"

Esme just smiles and waves me off. "Don't worry, though; once I found out, I stopped reading the blog."

"Yeah, me too," Rosie says.

In the background, I can hear Tia and Maggie thanking Nettie for the twenty-dollar bills they just scored.

"How long have you all known?" I ask.

"Since today," Tia and Maggie both say in unison.

Tia continues, "Actually, I had a suspicion a couple of weeks ago because I was reading the blog and recognized your necklace."

Immediately, my fingers reach up to toy with Edward's Christmas gift – the platinum locket embedded with green garnets that had once belonged to his grandmother. I haven't taken it off since the day he gave it to me.

"At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but today when Edward came into the office, Mags noticed the watch on his wrist."

I continue to look at Tia in confusion.

"The blue dial on the watch he wears is quite distinctive."

"So when did you see them on the blog?"

"Do you remember the pictures for '_The principal and the naughty librarian_'?" Tia asks, and suddenly I realize our stupid mistake.

A few times for the blog, we've incorporated role-playing scenarios while testing products. A week before Edward headed off to the U.K., we'd been given three sex manuals to review: '_Pure Erotic Massage',_ '_Oral Sex She'll Never Forget,' and 'Satisfy A Woman Every Single Time'. _Accompanying the blog entry were two pictures.

I was photographed standing in front of my living room bookcase wearing a nondescript white business shirt and a tight, black skirt. With my left hand fisted against my cocked hip, my right hand held up the books towards the camera, fanned out to show their covers. The photo was cropped, only showing me from the neck to the hips to preserve my anonymity. The second photo showed Edward's torso wearing a pale-blue shirt and a black tie. A pair of rectangular, black-framed glasses hung from his shirt pocket. I'd photographed him sitting at the desk in my spare bedroom with the three books tossed haphazardly in front of him. With his left hand, (his watch wearing hand, obviously) he was nervously pulling at his collar and tie.

_I'd stormed into the library. Slamming the three books down on the librarian's desk, I ranted that I'd just found a group of teen boys reading them behind the bleachers. When interrogated, the students reluctantly confessed they'd taken the books from the library. In my high heels, I had towered over his seated form and demanded to know what on Earth he was thinking by stocking such sexually explicit books in a high school library. _

_Completely flustered, he'd reached down to grab his briefcase from beneath the desk, and on opening it, he'd discovered it was empty. As I sat on the edge of the desk with my arms folded across my chest, he'd stammered his confession. He was utterly adorable - pulling at his collar and fumbling with his glasses as they repeatedly slid down the length of his nose. _

_He had stated that the books belonged to him, and not the library, and he surmised that the boys must have stolen them out of his briefcase along with his lunch box and thermos. Taking pity on him, I'd asked why he'd felt the need to read such books. He responded by saying he was a bit clueless when it came to, "The fine art of truly satisfying a woman." He said he hoped that if he ever got the opportunity to be with a woman again, he'd be able to apply some of what he'd learned. _

_He apologized and then asked for my forgiveness. He also begged that I allow him to remain employed as the school librarian, and said he would do anything I asked of him in order to keep his job. I told him that he could start by undressing me because he was about to be tested on what he'd learned. As an educator and molder of minds, I reiterated the importance of putting theory into practice. _

_Bonus points were awarded for creativity._

**({'}) **_Needless to say, he scored an A+ from me. _

"I've known since Thanksgiving," Leah says, breaking me out of my reverie. "I had a feeling the black-eye story was bullshit, plus I have excellent hearing and can lip-read. I understood most of what you and Edward talked about while I was knitting."

I turn to look at Rosie and lift an eyebrow in expectation.

"Christmas Day," she says with a shrug. "The middle names kind of tipped me off."

"Yeah, it was the middle of December for me," Esme says, "but it was because of an email you accidentally sent."

"What?"

"You were in Australia, and you sent an email to multiple recipients. The email was obviously intended for some people who work at the Lovers store, and Edward. But rather than sending it to Edward's Gmail address, you emailed it to my Hotmail account."

It's not the first time I've accidentally sent either Edward or Esme the wrong email. They both have the same initials - E and A (for Edward Anthony and Esme Anne) before their surname in their email addresses.

"Did you ever ask Edward about it? Does he know that you know?" Then in a panic, I hasten to add, "Please, tell me that you didn't tell Carlisle."

"I swear I didn't tell a soul. I thought about emailing you to let you know of your mistake, then for a brief second, I considered forwarding the email to Edward, but I didn't want to embarrass either of you, so I just deleted it."

"And… you're not angry at us?"

She shakes her head. "You're adults. The two of you seem perfectly compatible and happy, and as Edward's mother, that's all that matters to me. But from that day on, I stopped reading the blog because I didn't need to know the intimate details of my son's sex life to know how _truly_ happy he is."

"But now you're quitting the blog," Maggie says. "Why?"

I shrug. "It was just time."

"How on Earth is it possible that I was completely unaware of this?" Ali asks in astonishment, breaking the silence. "I'm usually the first to know!"

"You've been clueless since the day you got pregnant with Peaches," Leah replies. "Face it; lately, none of your predictions have come true. Your kid stole your spidey senses."

"Wow, this is awkward," Sue says. "I sent fan mail and participated on the blog forum a couple of times a week."

I start mentally cataloging the names of the readers who regularly chat on the advice forum.

"Oh my God! Are you… _Bad Lieutenant_?"

Sue nods and then starts snickering. Recalling some of the forum conversations _Bad Lieutenant_ has been involved in, I burst into giggles. She has a wicked sense of humor.

Once Sue and I stop laughing, a hush falls over the group.

No one quite knows what to say.

I sigh resignedly. "It seems the cat is well and truly out of the bag. Can I just ask that you don't tell my father? If he finds out, he'll confiscate my laptop and ground me for life," I joke. "Now, how much money will it take to pay you all off so you'll forget this ever happened?"

The uneasy tension is broken, and my friends and family all start laughing again.

"Shall we continue the game then?" Sue asks, looking to me for approval.

I wave off the situation with a nonchalant gesture. "Yeah, sure. Why the hell not? On with the show!"

"So, Bella…," Megan asks, "was your title, in fact, '_Batteries Not Included'_?"

Standing up, I announce, "Mine was '_Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close', _before sitting down again. They all boo at my answer because none of them got it right, and I laugh.

"You can't just leave it at that!" Tia says. "We need an explanation."

Without going into explicit details, I explain that earlier in the evening Edward and I road-tested the 'I Scream, You Scream' ice cream - our final product review for the blog. Mom, Esme, and Sue all start laughing, no doubt recalling the discs they'd found scattered about the cabin.

"Actually, we should have known Bella picked that one," Rosie says turning to Esme. "Remember the time we came home and heard them going at it through the baby monitor? They were so loud they woke Milly."

Esme snorts in laughter and nods. Everyone else starts laughing too, including me.

"Ha-ha. Very funny," I reply, poking my tongue out at them childishly. "You're all just jealous of my fantastic sex life. So… I believe you're next, my_ soon-to-be monster-in-law!"_

Esme just grins. "_Some Like It Hot_," she announces proudly, and I growl because I have to put an X next to her name.

"Looks like I was wrong, Esme. I figured you for an '_Old Yeller_'."

Esme responds by poking her tongue out at me, and we start giggling.

"Actually, the old yeller would be your father," Sue says, snickering with mirth. To make matters worse, she then adds, "Right, Ren?"

My mom turns to Sue, nods in agreement, and then giggles.

*double facepalm*

Oh, dear Lord. There are just some things a daughter is not meant to know.

"Nooooooooo," I whine. "Pleeeeeease, make it stop!" Through my fingers, I can see everyone is cracking up, and some even have tears of laughter in their eyes. I turn to look at my Mom and point a finger at her. "I don't care what you say, I _am_ the result of Immaculate Conception, and you can't convince me otherwise."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby," Mom says, chuckling and patting me on the top of my head in a patronizing manner.

I bat my mom's hand away. "Okay… moving right along!" I shout out, urging everyone to continue with the game.

Suddenly, Leah bursts into laughter. "Actually, Mom, I'm surprised you didn't write down something like '_Above The Law_'."

It's wrong, but I laugh so hard. I can't help it.

"Lauren? Where are you girl? It's your turn," Ali says.

Lauren pops her head through the French doors carrying a fresh drink in her hand. She says, "Mine was '_While You Were Sleeping'_."

Maggie pipes up, "That's what I wrote originally, but Sue told me that I had to change it, so I wrote down '_Spy Kids'_ instead. My husband and I have to wait until well past midnight when all the kids have gone to sleep, or else they get out of bed and knock on our door. Does your little one do that, too?"

"Nah, I wrote '_While You Were Sleeping' _because Mike's a sleep-humper," Lauren explains with a chuckle.

We all dissolve into laughter again.

"Leah!" Ali yells.

"_The Fast And The Furious_," Leah yells back, not bothering to stand up.

"So, young Jacob's still a two-pump chump, then?" Rosie asks, snickering.

Leah thumps Rosie on the arm. "Screw you, chick. It's because Mae won't sleep for more than an hour at a time, so we've gotta be quick."

Oh. God.

My sides are hurting, and I can barely see through the tears.

I'm so glad I didn't miss out on this.

This has been one of the best nights of my life.

-oo0oo-

**Thursday – July 4th.**

Cracking open a single, sticky eye lid, the first thing I see is the blurry view of my mom's makeup-smudged face, mere inches away from my own. She's passed out, drooling, and snoring like a bear. My vision sharpens, and I wince in pain. My head hurts so much that I want to die, and to make matters worse, I feel awfully queasy.

_Ugh. Hangovers suck. Damn those frozen cocktails._

I close my eye lid again in an attempt to get back to sleep so I can escape from my self-inflicted Hell, but after a minute or two, I realize my right arm is completely numb. I must have been laying on it for some time.

As I roll over, I have to stifle a groan when the sensation of pins and needles suddenly assaults the length of my arm. Then, with what I'm sure is an audible '_thump,'_ my alcohol-dehydrated brain sloshes from one side of my skull, all the way across to the other side. As a result of my cranial gymnastics, a wave of nausea rolls through me, and I focus on breathing slowly and deeply in an attempt to make the urge to vomit go away.

The unmistakable aroma of coffee hits my olfactory receptors.

Knowing that neither Mom, nor I was in a state of sobriety to set up the coffee maker last night, I have to wonder how the coffee smell came about. I can't even recall getting home.

_Come to think of it, wasn't I supposed to be on the boat with Edward?_

Blearily, I open one eye and then the other. I soon realize I'm in Edward's old room at Esme and Carlisle's house, and I'm lying on top of the bedclothes. Beneath my head is a pillow, and it's covered with a pink bath towel. On top of the side table, I see a glass of water and three white pills – two large and one small. Tucked beneath the table is a green plastic bucket.

Not far from the bed, lying in front of the ottoman, I notice there are some blankets and another pillow on the floor. It's then I realize the clothes I wore last night are neatly folded on top of the ottoman, and my boots are on the floor. I look down, and I notice I'm wearing one of Edward's t-shirts as a nightdress.

_Huh? How did that happen? And when?_

I hear a soft chuckle.

Slowly, I raise my throbbing head from the pillow and glance around. Edward is slouched in the large, wing-backed arm chair. He has a pillow propped behind his back, and his long feet are resting on the end of the bed. He's holding a book in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.

Mystery solved.

I wonder how long Edward has been here in this room. _Did he actually sleep on the floor last night?_ He's wearing gray sleep pants and an old, bright-yellow Sex Pistols t-shirt that he adamantly refuses to throw away, despite the fact it's almost see-through in some parts and has a small, finger-sized hole just below his left nipple. I sometimes think that the only reason Edward insists on doing his own laundry is because he's secretly scared I'll throw the t-shirt into the trash…, and he'd be dead right.

Silently, I watch as he lifts the cup to his lips and takes a long sip, all without tearing his eyes away from the Matthew Reilly novel in his hand. He told me yesterday he bought it from the book store at Heathrow Airport while waiting for a standby flight. As though sensing he's being watched, he looks up from his book. Edward gets out of the chair and comes to squat down next to the side of the bed.

He quirks an eyebrow at me and says, "So, I guess pancakes are out of the question…" reminding me of the plans we'd made the day before.

"Ugh," is my very intelligent and articulate response as my roiling stomach protests at the mere thought of anything cooked right now.

Edward leans in and kisses my forehead before moving some wayward strands of hair away from my face.

"Don't worry; I'll take a rain check. In the meantime, take the tablets for the headache and nausea, and go back to sleep. I'll wake you both when it's time to get ready for lunch."

Oh, yeah. I totally forgot we're still having a 4th of July family lunch here at Esme's before Edward heads off for his own party.

"What's the time?" I rasp, trying to keep my words at a minimum. No doubt, my mouth probably smells like a brewery.

"Almost ten. I'll wake you just before twelve."

Downing the pills and water, I do as Edward suggests and quickly fall back to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Trivia time.  
>My married surname would have been <strong>_**Laycock**_** had my husband not changed his original surname to that of his (now ex) step-father when he was a teenager (my M.I.L has been married and divorced three times). Thank God I didn't have to go down the path of refusing to take on that particular surname. Imagine if I'd had to go to work with '**_**Nurse _ Laycock**_**' on my I.D. badge. Seriously, it sounds like the title of a bad porno movie!**

* * *

><p><strong>Music mentioned in this chapter. As usual remove brackets for links to work.<strong>

**(http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/BallAndBiscuit**  
><strong>(http)(:)(/bit.)ly/Gorillaz-Dare**  
><strong>(http)(:)(/bit.)ly/BillyClub-JunkieXL**  
><strong>(http)(:)(/bit.)ly/YYY-Zero**


	148. Chapter 148

_**Thursday - 4th of July - 5.10pm – Bella Swan's FaceBook News Feed.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Charles Swan, Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, <strong>and 10 others were tagged in**  
><strong><span>Emmett D McCarty's<span> ****photo taken 2 hours ago via Mobile near Lakewood, WA  
>Like · Share · Comment<br>**Bella Swan, Alice Hale, Rosalie McCarty** and 9 others _like_ this.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Emmett D McCarty<span>****  
><strong>Me and the boys getting ready to race go karts at GPR to celebrate **Edward Cullen's**  
>last days as a free man.<strong><br>**Like · Comment · 2 hours ago near Lakewood, WA.  
>B<strong>ella Swan, Alice Hale, Rosalie McCarty<strong> and 5 others _like_ this.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Bella Swan<span>**  
>Has a massive hangover and is about to curl up on the couch to watch a chick flick<br>with her Mom,** Alice Hale, Rosalie McCarty, Leah Black, Sue Swan, **and **Esme Cullen**.  
>Like · Comment · 2 hours ago near Boston Harbor, WA.<p>

**Sue Swan** – This movie blows. I hate the lead actress – she's too perky.  
>1 hour ago · Like<br>**Alice Hale** – Even Josh Duhamel isn't enough to maintain my interest. Gonna take  
>a nap while Peaches is asleep.<br>1 hour ago · Like  
><strong>Bella Swan – <strong>I wonder if the book is any better? Seriously, I've read better fanfiction.  
>50 minutes ago · Like<br>**Rosalie McCarty** – What's fanfiction?  
>45 minutes ago · Like<br>**Bella Swan – **I'll explain later.  
>40 minutes ago · Like<br>**Leah Black** – Googling fanfiction.  
>40 minutes ago · Like<br>**Leah Black** – Why did you never tell me about FF before **Bella Swan**? I likey! **;)**  
>30 minutes ago · Like<br>**Rosalie McCarty** – Googling fanfiction.  
>30 minutes ago · Like<br>**Sue Swan** – Googling fanfiction.  
>28 minutes ago · Like<br>**Leah Black** – Why is your Mom crying?  
>21 minutes ago · Like<br>**Bella Swan – **Probably because the movie is such a steaming pile of shit and she  
>wasted two hours of her life. I liked the ending though... and what I actually mean is<br>that I liked it the first time I saw it... back in 1999 when I first watched "The Sixth Sense."  
>20 minutes ago · Like<br>**Rosalie McCarty** – LMAO. I know, right? It's funny how the twist at the end makes you  
>care even less about the whole movie. Totally unnecessary.<br>20 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>Esme Cullen – <strong>Why are you all having this conversation on Facebook? You're all in  
>the same room! What's fanfiction?<br>18 minutes ago · Like

* * *

><p><strong><span>Emmett D McCarty<span>**  
>Round and round they go. Yawn. I'm bored. Bored, bored, bored. Out of the race. <strong>:(<strong>  
>Like · Comment · 25 minutes ago near Lakewood, WA.<p>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Charles Swan <span>****  
><strong>Men wanna be like me. Women want me. I am the ultimate sign of awesome  
>manliness because I rock the Porn Stache<strong>.<strong>  
>Like · Comment · 21 minutes ago near Lakewood, WA<br>**Sue Swan **_likes_ this.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Charles Swan<span>** _likes_ **Porn Stache** Community · 225 likes

* * *

><p><strong><span>Edward Cullen<span>**  
>I'm a sparkly little fairy and <strong>Jake Black<strong> is pwning my ass.  
>Like · Comment · 18 minutes ago near Lakewood, WA.<p>

**Senna Harrison-Palmer – **LOL. I always had my suspicions about you, Eddie. How's  
>the race going? Is my man pwning your ass too?<br>15 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>Bella Swan – <strong>? ? ?  
>8 minutes ago · Like<p>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Edward Cullen<span>**  
>If you're going to ride my fairy ass <strong>Jake Black<strong>, can you at least pull my hair?  
>Like · Comment · 17 minutes ago near Lakewood, WA.<br>**  
><strong>Bella Swan – <strong>**Again I say ? ? ? What on earth are you doing? My mind boggles.  
>8 minutes ago · Like<p>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Carlisle Cullen<span>**  
>Just realized what a great band Nickleback is!<br>Like · Comment · 15 minutes ago via mobile.  
><strong>Aro Volturi<strong> and 2 others _like_ this.

**Megan Kavanagh – **I heard that if you play a Nickleback song backwards you'll  
>hear messages from the devil. Even worse, if you play it forwards you'll hear<br>Nickleback. LOL. Just kidding Mr C. So besides being tone deaf, how are you?  
>Is my dad beating you on the raceway? Don't let him get too drunk tonight or he'll<br>keep us all awake with his snoring.  
>10 minutes ago · Like<br>**Esme Cullen – **Carlisle? Really?  
>8 minutes ago · Like<p>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Jazz L.W. Hale<span> **_changed _his relationship status to **Married to his right hand.****  
><strong>13 minutes ago · Like

* * *

><p><strong><span>Jazz L.W. Hale<span>** _likes _**Masturbation is having sex with someone you love** Sports · 33 likes.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Jake Black<span>**  
>Is worried about a rash on his pee pee and needs advice.<br>Like · Comment · 10 minutes ago via Blackberry.

**Quil Ateara –** Dude? Ew. You should see a doc about that. Does Leah know?  
>10 minutes ago · Like<br>**William 'Billy' Black, Jr – **You better call me Son.**  
><strong>9 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>Leah Black – <strong>You better call me, Husband!**  
><strong>8 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>William 'Billy' Black, Jr – <strong>I just tried to call you on your cell and Emmett  
>answered. I think I've worked out what's going on here. When you've finished<br>on the racetrack and you see this message, tell Emmett I just called your wife, and  
>she's gonna get Rosie to kick his ass for you.<br>6 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>Quil Ateara –<strong> Looks like you've been Fraped. How many times you gotta be told  
>to log out of Facebook or put a pin on your Blackberry, dickhead!<br>6 minutes ago · Like  
><strong>Jake Black –<strong> I did not write that status! I'm gonna fucking kill **Emmett D McCarty**!  
>3 minutes ago · Like<br>**Emmett D McCarty - William 'Billy' Black, Jr **I only took the call because **Charles Swan**  
>handed the phone to me and told me to answer it!<br>2 minutes ago · Like

* * *

><p><strong><span>Seth Clearwater<span>** _likes _**Dressing up as a girl so you get all the boys** Community · 18 likes

* * *

><p><strong><span>Seth Clearwater<span>** _likes_ **Unicorns **Community Page · 167,262 likes

* * *

><p><strong><span>Seth Clearwater<span>** _likes _**Justin beiber is Hot **Musician/Band · 974 likes

* * *

><p><strong><span>Seth Clearwater<span>** _added_ **Sexy Hot Men **app · 5,000 monthly active users

* * *

><p><strong><span>Edward Cullen<span>****  
><strong>is gonna get waxed tonight. Bye bye ginger pubes. Woohoo!  
>Like · Comment · 9 minutes ago near Lakewood, WA.<p>

**Bella Swan** – WTF? Your pubes aren't ginger.  
>7 minutes ago · Like<br>**Edward Cullen – **Just ignore everything that's been posted on my FB over the  
>last 20 minutes. Emmett came last in the heats, so he was holding our phones<br>on the sidelines while we raced. He hacked our FB pages 'cause he was bored.  
>5 minute ago · Like<br>**Bella Swan – **Yeah Billy just called us. Emmett's in big trouble when he gets home.  
>So who won the race?<br>5 minute ago · Like  
><strong>Edward Cullen – <strong>I won a couple of heats, but overall Jake won. I came in second,  
>Seth was third, and Jazz was fourth.<br>4 minute ago · Like  
><strong>Bella Swan –<strong> Did you get a little trophy for coming in second?  
>4 minutes ago · Like<br>**Edward Cullen – **Yep. And by the way, I just love how you were more concerned  
>about the correct colour of my bush and not the fact that I might actually wax<br>it all off! **O_o**  
>4 minute ago · Like<br>**Bella Swan – **LOL. I could say more about how metrosexual you are, but I don't  
>think this is a conversation we should continue on FaceBook.<strong> ;)<strong>**  
><strong>3 minute ago · Like  
><strong>Edward Cullen – <strong>I'm gonna delete this. We're leaving now to hit the pubes. Love you.  
><strong>Edward Cullen – <strong>Fuck! I meant pubs, not pubes! Damn autocorrect.  
><strong>Bella Swan –<strong> ROFLMFAO! Love you too. I'll see you when you get home tonight. Stay away from  
>tittie bars... and waxing salons.<br>3 minute ago · Like  
><strong>Edward Cullen – <strong>LOL. As if...  
>3 minute ago · Like<br>**Emmett D McCarty – **I only came back from the bathroom a few minutes ago. I didn't write  
>this!<br>3 minute ago · Like

* * *

><p><strong><span>Rosalie McCarty<span>****  
><strong>Emmett D McCarty<strong>** is sleeping on the couch tonight!  
>Like · Comment · 3 minutes ago near Boston Harbor, WA.<br>**Jake Black, Seth Clearwater, Jazz L.W. Hale** and 10 others _like_ this.

**Emmett D McCarty – **I didn't write any of those status updates. You have to believe me!  
>It was <strong>Charles Swan! <strong>He was holding the phones while I was in the bathroom.  
>2 minute ago · Like<br>**Emmett D McCarty – **Facebook seriously needs a real 'dislike' button for this status.  
>1 minute ago · Like<br>**Charles Swan - **Face it like a man, Em. You don't have a leg to stand on.  
>45 seconds ago · Like<br>**Emmett D McCarty – **You think you're so funny.  
>20 seconds ago · Like<p>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Charles Swan <span>****  
><strong>I have nothing to declare except my genius.  
>Like · Comment · 30 seconds ago near Lakewood, WA<br>**Sue Swan **_likes_ this.


	149. Chapter 149

_**Friday 5th July - very early in the morning. **_

_THUD_. _THUD._

I open my eyes and raise my head, wondering what caused me to wake up. Behind me, the flickering light of the TV illuminates my living room, and I realize I must have fallen asleep while waiting for Edward to come home from his bachelor party. I roll over on the sofa to check the time. The iHome dock sitting atop the entertainment unit tells me in pale-blue digital numbers that it's 3:00am. It's so late, and Edward's not home yet.

"Problem with that shedding pussy?" the annoying voice on the TV asks.

**({'}) **_Bwahahaha… shedding pussy. This infomercial for the Schticky roller cracks me up every time._

_THUD_.

Over the soft noise of the TV, I hear some strange sounds coming from the direction of my front porch, and it's making me feel apprehensive. Reaching over the arm of the sofa, I turn on the small table lamp, and it bathes the room in a warm, yellow glow. I can hear some muffled voices outside, and I just hope it's Edward out there and not some deranged, machete-wielding home invader.

_CLANG._

My heart jumps up into my throat at the sudden loud noise. It sounds as though something or someone just crashed against my security screen door. Picking up the remote, I turn off the TV to listen carefully. There's laughter from more than one male voice.

"Ed… hey, Ed. Where are your keys?" That sounds like Jazz's voice. I breathe a sigh of relief, and my heart rate plummets dramatically. It's about damn time they got home.

"Huh? Er… dunno." I think that was Edward.

"Fuck, hurry up; he's heavier than he looks." That was Emmett's voice.

"Ed! Don't fall asleep now; I need your keys," Jazz says.

"Check his jacket."

"Can you make it quick? My back is bloody killing me." It seems Carlisle is out there, too.

"They aren't in his jacket. Ed! Wake up, Cuz. I need your keys."

I look towards the hook near the door, and I can see Edward's keys hanging there.

"Let's just ring the doorbell," Carlisle says.

"Bella's gonna be pissed if we wake her."

"It's a bit too late for that, Em," I mutter as I retie the sash of my short, kimono-style robe and head for the front door.

"Shit. Can't we just leave him on the doorstep?"

I roll my eyes. For a big guy, Emmett is such a chicken shit.

"No, we can't. Just ring the bloody bell, before we drop him again," Carlisle grunts.

_Ding-dong._

Emmett and Carlisle, who both appear somewhat drunk, jump in surprise when I immediately open the front door and turn on the overhead lights. Edward is standing (if you can call it that), and he's heavily supported on either side by Emmett and Carlisle. Jazz is standing behind the three of them. Being the designated driver, he's as sober as a judge. He also has a bandage on his forearm, but that was to be expected.

Until I had rested my eyes and fallen asleep – somewhere around midnight – I had been following the boys as they photo-documented their evening's exploits on FaceBook. Between drinking venues, they had visited a tattoo parlor. Jazz had added to his ink collection by having the video game character 'Baby Princess Peach' tattooed on his inner forearm. His daughter's birthdate was written beneath.

"It's about time you got home," I say with concern. I flick the latch and push open the security screen door to allow them to come inside. "I was starting to get worried."

At the sound of my voice, Edward raises his head and smiles at me drunkenly. Shrugging out of Carlisle and Emmett's hold, he stumbles towards me, accidentally pinning me against the nearby wall.

"Hi, booooful wifey. I luff youuuuuu," Edward slurs, wrapping me in a crushing embrace and planting a sloppy, but toe-curling kiss on my neck, just below my ear. I feel the caress of his hands as they start sliding down and around my hips to grasp the backs of my thighs, but when his cold fingers begin to push up inside the legs of my sleep shorts to fondle and knead the bare skin of my butt, I gasp in surprise.

**({'})** _Hello fingers! Now listen up… if you'll just coordinate yourselves that would be super. Just move inwards and down a few inches and meet me in the middle. M'kay?_

While Edward's hands feel nice, I'm all too aware that we have several onlookers.

"Edward? Edward! Stop it!" I protest. "Not here in the doorway." I wriggle and attempt to remove his fingers from beneath the hem of my shorts. With my hands firmly gripping his wrists, I manage to pull his hands away from my butt, resulting in a pouting Edward.

"Aww. You're no fun," he whines. To my horror, Edward reaches for my boobs and gently starts to massage them; which in itself is a mortifying situation because my soon-to-be father-in-law is only a few feet away, but to make matters even worse he's saying, "_Honk-honk_," and giggling with each hand squeeze.

**({'})** '_It's such a turn on when you honk my boobs,' said no woman ever._

"Edward! Knock it off! Behave!" He giggles again as I slap his hands away. "Not now. You're drunk, and Carlisle is right behind you," I hiss.

Pushing his pelvis against me and speaking into my ear, he says, "Then let's go to the bedroom. I've got something impressive to show you, and it's in my pants." Edward thinks he's whispering, but he's not, and Emmett and Carlisle start laughing hysterically.

"Okay, lover-boy, that's enough from you," Jazz says, taking pity on me. "Stop molesting Bella and go sit on the sofa. It's really late, and the last thing she needs is to deal with you and your whiskey dick."

"Sod off, you git. I don't get whiskey di-" Edward turns his head to cast a withering glare at Jazz, but Emmett and Carlisle make use of the distraction and they pull Edward backwards, allowing me to extricate myself from his octopus-like arms. "Awww, no fair," he whines petulantly, his fingers uselessly plucking at thin air.

Finally freed from Edward Horny-Hands, I leave to grab a few things. After collecting some Tylenol, water, and a bucket, I return to the living room to see Jazz and Carlisle have an unconscious Edward lying on the sofa, and they are working to remove his shoes, socks, jacket, shirt, and jeans. I put the glass and pills down on the coffee table and the bucket on the floor next to the sofa. I then fetch the afghan blanket and a spare pillow from the linen closet in the hallway.

"You should go on up to bed and get some sleep," Carlisle says, taking the pillow from me and placing it under Edward's head. "We'll deal with this. I know Esme and Ren are picking you up early in the morning. You've got a busy day ahead."

Carlisle's right. While Edward will no doubt be nursing the mother-of-all hangovers tomorrow, I have my final dress fitting, meetings with the wedding planner, the florist, the photographers, the wedding cake supplier, and caterer. I'll also need to do some last minute shopping for our honeymoon. The afternoon will be spent at Leah's beauty salon with my three bridesmaids, and we are going to be pampered and primped to within an inch of our lives before the wedding rehearsal and dinner.

"Thanks," I reply, covering Edward with the blanket. "I appreciate the offer, but I've got this. Go home to your wives."

After saying goodbye to the guys, I close the front door and walk back into the living room. Already, Edward has thrown off the afghan blanket, and he's just lying there on the sofa in nothing but his red boxer briefs and white singlet. Never, in the thirteen months I've known Edward, have I ever seen him this intoxicated, and in this moment, I'm torn between amusement and annoyance. Amusement – because even though he's beyond hammered, he's still cute and sexy. Annoyance – because it's three in the morning and with so much alcohol in his system he still somehow manages to look cute and sexy. Seriously... who does that?

I take a moment to sit on the edge of the sofa and run my fingers along the length of his leg from ankle to thigh.

There is no response.

I continue my tactile perusal and run a hand over his hip.

No response.

From balls to tip, I run my forefinger over the length of his flaccid cock that is lying tucked inside his briefs.

No response; not even a twitch.

**({'})** _I think Edward ___is extremely drunk. You know how El Capitán is normally a grower when you do that.__

I then gently scrape my nails up and down his abs.

Still no response. Perfect.

I smile, realizing that I've been waiting to play a particular prank on Edward for quite some time.

**({'}) **_Are you thinking what I'm thinking?_

Maybe…

But then a moment of self-doubt creeps in.

Should I?

I mean, he did take good care of me last night when I was sloshed; I owe him that much.

**({'})** _Yeah, but you also owe him for that prank he played back in April. _

Libby's right.

On the evening of Easter Sunday, we'd attended a fund-raising event at The Broho. The night had started interestingly enough when I'd stepped out of the shower. A different set of bras and panties were on the bed than the ones I'd previously laid out next to my jeans and top. The note attached had said, "_Wear me_." Thinking nothing of it, I'd donned the lacy black thong, which appeared to be brand new, and the bra that wasn't.

Just after midnight, Edward had corralled me into the employee's only bathroom. Once inside, he'd kissed me and pulled down my zipper. At first, when he pushed his hand down inside my panties, I had thought he was going to finger me, and I happily widened my stance. Instead, he slipped a device called a 'Club Vibe' into a specially designed pocket within the panties, saying we were going to review the device for the blog.

The vibe was one that had two modes – five manual vibration patterns and 'club mode'. To demonstrate club mode, he spoke into the black, ovoid-shaped, wireless remote. With each uttered syllable, the vibe buzzed gently within my panties. Thinking there was no way the device was going to get me off, I'd played along and allowed him to lead me out of the bathroom. Once we rejoined our table, Rebecca had pulled me onto the dance floor. Edward remained seated, drinking and talking with a heavily pregnant Leah (who incidentally gave birth sixteen hours later). Jake and Seth were there too. Edward watched me intently as I danced, the clit vibe buzzing ineffectually between my legs to the beat of the music.

Edward had clearly lulled me into a false sense of security by demonstrating the vibe on the lowest sensitivity of 'club mode' in the bathroom. The vibrations suddenly ramped up to what must've been its highest setting.

"Ohhh God!" I yelled. As though suddenly afflicted by both Tourette syndrome and seizures, I found myself knock-kneed and my hips were twisting awkwardly. "Ohhhhhhh, Fuck Me!" I'd moaned as I gripped my hair, resisting the urge to clasp my hands between my thighs instead. I swear if my eyes hadn't been closed, I would have been cross-eyed, too.

After about ten seconds, the buzzing stopped altogether, and I ceased my strange, involuntary movements. One look at my friend (and a few other shocked club patrons) had told me they'd noticed my odd behavior. I cast an angry glare towards Edward, but he appeared to be in deep conversation with Leah. Nonchalantly, I recomposed myself by running my hands through my mussed hair, and I continued to dance as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. However, I became totally paranoid, and I constantly glanced towards our table in an attempt to gauge when the next sneak attack would occur.

After a minute or two, Rebecca asked, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Distracted, I turned to look at her, and replied, "YES! Ohhhhhhh yesssssss." My body writhed of its own accord when the vibe buzzed against my clit for fifteen seconds before turning off again. I straightened up, smoothed my hands down the front of my jeans and giggled before dancing again. Rebecca was staring at me in incredulity. "I'm fine! I'm fine," I said, smiling nervously.

"What in the hell was _that_ then?"

"Erm… nothing, I just _really_ like this song," I lied.

"Bullshit… you hate the Black Eyed Peas. Plus, for a moment there you looked as though your body was possessed by the spirit of Elaine Benes from Seinfeld. You know the dance she does?" Rebecca started to do _the little kicks_, the dance that George Costanza had once described as, '_A full-body dry-heave set to music_'."

Looking over at Edward, I noticed he was laughing his ass off. Then I watched in horror as the remote was knocked out of his hand as one of the bar staff brushed against Edward's arm while picking up some glasses from our table. The remote hit the floor, and then as if in slow motion, I witnessed it skitter across the floor after being kicked and stepped on by multiple pairs of dancing feet. A few seconds later, as the remote disappeared into the crowd of bodies, the vibe went completely ballistic inside my panties. I was forced to bolt for the employees only bathroom, leaving a bewildered Rebecca alone on the dance floor to wonder what the fuck was wrong with me.

Edward had followed me into the bathroom and was laughing hysterically as I fumbled with my zipper and screeched that countless numbers of unknown freaks might be out there playing with the remote. Just after I managed to pull my panties down to my thighs, he dangled the _real _remote in my face and then pressed the off button.

"Gotcha! April Fool's Day, Bella." He winked and then smirked at me.

"You think you're so hilarious," I said, reaching into my panties and pulling out the vibe.

"Oh, I know I am." He laughed.

"How did you manage it? I saw the remote hit the floor and watched it disappear into the crowd."

"No, you saw an old, broken garage door clicker. I took it from a box of junk I found in Mum's shed."

"I'm going to get you back for this, Cullen," I said as I slapped the vibe against the middle of his forehead. Normally, I prided myself on being a great dancer, but that night Edward made me look like a total spazz.

Looking at his watch, he said, "Well, you've got another twenty-three and a half hours to do your worst."

I shook my head as I pulled up my panties and jeans. "You poor, deluded boy. You should know that I don't care about April Fool's Day time limits. Revenge is a dish best served cold. So… if I were you, Edward Cullen, I'd sleep with one eye open." After patting him on the cheek in a patronizing manner, I'd left the bathroom to contemplate his fate.

At last…, the time has come for my revenge.

**({'}) **_Find me the razor, the shaving foam, and the sharpies!_

-oo0oo-

_**7.40am.**_

Thanks to an exceptionally late night, I slept through my alarm. Mom and Esme are meant to pick me up at eight, so I'm hurriedly washing my hair.

_THUD._

"Owwww! Who put that fucking wall there?"

It seems Edward is awake. I was unsure as to whether he would wake before I left, but I can hear him coming down the hallway, cursing up a storm. I quickly close the shower curtain just in time to see him stagger into the bathroom while clutching at his forehead.

**({'})** _I hope that doesn't bruise._

"Shit, fuck, arse, bugger, bollocks."

"Morning," I say cheerfully from behind the curtain. "Did you have a good time last night?"

"Ugh," he groans as I hear the lid and toilet seat hit the cistern. "Bell? Do you have any more Tylenol?" he whines, just as he begins to relieve himself.

"Yeah, it's in the cabinet behind the vanity mirror; next to the tampons."

"What the fu-" Edward starts to say.

Sneakily, I peep past the edge of the curtain to see Edward staring down in disbelief. Stifling a giggle, I pull back and call out, "I said they're next to the tampons."

"Uh… um, yeah. Thanks." I hear the lid and seat of the toilet slam back down. I've trained him well.

"Don't flush till I've finished showering," I call out in a panic. I don't want to get burned by a sudden loss of cold water.

"Erm… okay." Peering around the edge of the curtain once again, I can see Edward staring at his reflection in the mirror. "_Oh fuck_," he mouths, running his hand over his lower abdomen. He pulls off his singlet and then opens one of the vanity drawers. After finding a wash cloth, he turns the tap on and runs the cloth under the faucet.

Instantly, the water sluicing down my lower back and ass becomes scalding hot, and I flail and yelp in response. "Edward!"

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Edward mumbles, quickly turning off the tap.

Peering around the curtain again, I can see he's swiping at the words with the soaped up cloth, but they stubbornly remain on the skin just above his pubic hair.

I have to admire my own awesomeness.

The fake tattoo actually looks like a real one, and as predicted, the Green Marble make-up sealing spray that I applied as an afterthought is preventing the words from washing straight off. In fact, the only thing that will take them off is the special adhesive remover hidden in the cabinet above the refrigerator.

Grinning at my own ingenuity, I hastily comb conditioner through my hair. To make it appear authentic, I shaved a strip of hair across his happy trail. I even managed to make the skin appear slightly inflamed with blusher around each of the black letters written in Old English Canterbury font.

After rinsing, I abruptly pull the shower curtain back without turning the water off first. The suddenness of my action causes Edward to startle, and he quickly pulls up his red boxer briefs. Despite his attempt at hiding them, the top half of some words are still visible. He angles his body away from me slightly and grabs for his toothbrush and the paste.

"Do you want me to leave the water on for you to shower?" I ask, before dropping my gaze to his lower abdomen and gasping in horror. "Oh my God, Edward! Is that- is that what I think it is?"

Edward winces, as though my words are causing him physical pain. I almost feel sorry for him, but this was a golden opportunity that was too good to pass up. I quickly turn off the water and grab my towels. Edward says nothing and just continues to stand before the vanity looking miserable as he brushes his teeth. With my hair up in one towel and another wrapped around my chest, I reach out and grasp Edward's shoulders to turn his body to face me properly. Pulling the elastic top of his briefs down a little, I bow down and stare in faux-incredulity and shake my head.

"I know you've talked about getting another tattoo, but why did you decide to put it there; above your dick, of all places – and right before our honeymoon? What on Earth were you thinking?"

Edward shrugs in defeat and then spits toothpaste into the sink. "I dunno. I don't even recall getting inked. I remember we walked into a tattoo parlor at one point, but I was sure only Jazz got tattooed. Maybe we went back later… I'll have to ring Jazz and ask what happened."

In a huff, I stand up, and then grab for my own toothbrush and the paste. "Damn right you will, and then you'll need to ring around to find someone who can laser it off. It's bad enough that whoever put that thing on you got my name wrong, but seriously, how hard is it to spell _aboard!? A-B-O-A-R-D!"_

Edward's eyes widen in shock, and then he pulls down the front of his briefs again and stares in concentration at the backwards letters in the mirror.

WELCOME ABORED  
>~ ISOBEL ~<p>

Realizing I've spoken the truth, he groans and then heads into the shower.

After leaving the bathroom, I give Jazz a call.

-oo0oo-

**10.20am – Weddings With Joy Bridal Salon – Olympia.**

Radiohead can be heard playing from within my handbag.

Ali smirks knowingly. "That didn't take long." She's on her own phone speaking with Jazz.

I already know why Edward is calling because Jazz just rang Ali a moment ago to pass on the message that the jig was up. According to Jazz, Edward had called him to ask if he could recommend someone who would remove a tattoo at short notice – as in today. After stringing him along for five minutes – telling him that tattoos of that size can't be lasered off in just one session and how costly and painful the treatments are – he'd confessed the tattoo was a fake.

"Rosie? Can you get that for me?" I ask as Angela continues to unlace the corset closure at the back of my wedding gown. Rosie fetches my phone and passes it to me.

"Hey, Edward," I say in an overly cheerful tone.

"_Hey, yourself."_

"How's the hangover?"

"_Not too bad now. After you left, I took some more Tylenol and went back to bed for a while. I think I feel well enough to leave the house without feeling as though my head will implode."_

"That's good. What are you up to now?" I ask, as if I don't already know that Jazz, Emmett, and Carlisle will soon be arriving at my house so they can pick up Edward.

"_The boys are coming here in about fifteen minutes, and we're heading off to Tacoma to get our suits and shoes."_

"Okay. Have fun."

"_Where are you right now?"_

Angela taps me on the shoulder, indicating that I can head towards the fitting room and get out of the gown. "Thanks, Angela," I say quietly over my shoulder. Clutching the front of the beaded, strapless bodice with one hand, and my phone to my ear with the other, I walk forward, enter the booth and close the door behind me. "I'm at the bridal salon. I just had my final fitting. Why do you ask?"

"_I believe there's something you need to tell me..."_

"I can tell you that my gown looks amaaaaazing. I'm so pleased with it, and the girls look stunning in their dresses too."

"_And..?" _

"Can you hang on a sec? I just need to get out of my gown, and I don't want to get it snagged on my shoes." I drop the phone onto the padded bench seat in front of the mirror. I allow the gown to fall the length of my body, and after carefully stepping out of it, I open the fitting room door just wide enough to pass it out to Rosie. I pick up my phone again. "Sorry 'bout that; you were saying?"

"_Do you know why I'm calling you, Bella?"_

"No." For the moment, I'm going to play dumb.

"_I'm curious."_

"About what?"

"_How is your arse right now?"_

Glancing sideways at the mirror, I smile widely at my reflection, pleased at what I see. The last few months of torturous exercises at the Brandon Athletic Center have certainly paid off. "Well, I must say that from where I'm standing, looking at it in the mirror, it's looking pretty fantastic."

Edward chuckles before collecting himself. "_Hmmm, how disappointing."_

"Why's that?" Definitely not the response I was hoping for.

"_It's just that when I was a kid, I recall being told that people who speak falsely invariably experienced some form of spontaneous combustion in the pants region."_

I try to stifle a giggle. "I'm confused. Is that a highfalutin way of saying, 'Liar, liar, pants on fire'?"

"_Yep. So… is there anything else you want to tell me, Bella?"_

"Um… I love you and can't wait to marry you tomorrow?"

He snickers. "You know… I don't think I can go through with marrying such an evil, evil, lying, _evil_ woman."

"Awww. Don't be like that. You know you love me… plus you'll have to marry me if you want to see the lingerie I'll be wearing under my dress. I bet you'd flip your shit if you could see me right now," I say seductively.

"_And did I happen to mention that I think you're evil? Now, stop distracting me from the subject…"_

"I can't help it if you have such a short attention span and you got distracted by my ass."

"_I know what you're trying to do, Isabella, and it's not going to work. I know you know I know this thing on my belly is fake. What I want to know is where you hid the stuff that will remove it and then I want an apology." _

It takes me a moment to decipher his roundabout rant, and I almost choke on my own laughter. "You know you deserved it. You've had this one coming since the April Fool's Day prank, and then there was the ice cream incident the other night. You should be the one apologizing to me."

"_Huh?"_

"Apologize first and maybe I'll consider telling you where to find the adhesive remover."

"_You want me to apologize? I trusted you to look after me just as considerately as I looked after you when you were in a similarly vulnerable position just the night before. If anyone should be groveling for forgiveness, it should be you. In fact, I think you'll need to do something extraordinarily special to make me forgive you... for instance, send me a picture of you in this lingerie you speak of."_

I laugh. "Vulnerable? Is that what you think you were? I'm pretty sure that if I'd treated your scrotum like it was my personal squeeze toy in front of my mom while I was in a drunken state, you wouldn't have let me get off scot-free."

"_What?"_

"You staggered in at three in the morning, pinned me to the wall, and then groped my ass and boobs in front of Carlisle, Em, and Jazz. You even made stupid honking sound effects! Say you're sorry."

I'm just thankful we aren't in the same room. Usually when we carry on like this, he sits on me and tickles me until I give in. It's so unfair.

Edward sighs. "_Okay… I'm sorry."_

"Do you really mean it?"

"_Yes."_

"Now say, 'Bella Swan is awesome.'"

He chuckles. "_You are totally awesome," _he says in a monotone voice. I can picture the epic eye-roll he's probably performing right now.

"Now tell me that I'm pretty."

"_You are really pretty,"_

"And that I'm sexy."

"_You are beyond sexy."_

"Clever and talented."

"_You are very clever, and exceptionally talented."_

"Tell me that you love me."

"_I love you."_

"Check in the cabinet above the refrigerator."

After a pause, he asks, "_Super Solv Plus. Is this it?"_

"Yep. Now say, 'Bella is the best'."

"_Bella, you're the best." _

"See? That wasn't too hard to say, now was it?"

"_No. Actually, it was all very easy to say; do you want to know why?"_

"Okay, tell me."

"_Inside my mind, I just added the words, 'When you give me a blow job,' to the end of each and every statement." _

I take a moment to think through all the words he just said and laugh. "Well played, Cullen; well played. So from my perspective, we're even now, right?"

"_Not even close, Swan. See you tonight at dinner," _he says with a menacing laugh.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - To see the 'Little Kicks Dance' (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Little-Kicks-Dance **

**Sadly, I know all the moves... in fact, you could say I'm a natural.**

**BOB xxx**


	150. Chapter 150

**_Friday 5_****_th_****_ July - 10.35pm – Boston Harbor._**

I stifle a yawn with the back of my hand as we slowly travel along the narrow lane towards the Cullen's home. Carlisle pulls the car into the gravel driveway, parking next to Edward's Volvo in front of the garage, then he, Mom, and Esme clamber out, but neither Edward nor I attempt to move.

If we get out of the car, it will mean the end of our time together, and right now I'm far too comfortable and content, sitting here cuddled up in the backseat with my fiancé. My head is resting against his warm bicep, and his hands are holding my left hand on his lap. Currently, his forefinger is gently circling my engagement ring; as if to remind me that come tomorrow, my finger will be adorned with another ring.

Before closing the rear passenger door, Mom pokes her head back inside the car and says, "Don't be too long, you two; Bella needs an early night." I stick my tongue out at her retreating form as she heads for the house. Edward chuckles.

Today at lunch, I was informed by our moms that I would be staying at the Cullen's home tonight…, and Edward wouldn't. When I'd protested, they both started going on about tradition and superstition, saying it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, and yada-yada-yada.

It all sounded like a crock of shit to me, and I happily pointed out that even though they followed the so-called tradition, they both ended up divorced and that Carlisle's first wife had died. Undeterred, they went on to say that staying apart overnight until the wedding ceremony will increase our sense of anticipation for that '_first look_' – of me in my wedding gown, and him waiting at the end of the aisle, and blah-blah-blah. Tired of being badgered, I reluctantly gave in.

With the closing of Esme and Carlisle's car doors, we immediately unbuckle our seatbelts and I launch myself to straddle Edward's thighs. As my fingers tangle themselves in his hair, he slouches in his seat, and his hands move straight up my skirt to grab my ass. He pulls me in closer and begins to kiss the side of my neck.

"God, I'm gonna miss you tonight," he murmurs between gentle nips and open-mouthed kisses.

I grind my body against his, and smile with satisfaction when I hear his throaty moan in response. I continue to rock my hips, feeling his growing erection right where I want it with each back and forth motion.

"I'll miss you, too... Hey! Knock it off," I protest, drawing Edward's mouth away from my neck by tugging roughly on his hair.

"What?" He smirks.

"You'd better not be leaving a hickey on me, mister! Leah will kill me if she has to do a cover-up."

Edward chuckles mischievously, and his hands move; one to grasp the hair at the base of my head while the other slips beneath my blouse to cup a boob. He crashes his lips against mine, kissing me soundly, and I start grinding on him again. Just when my tongue is beginning to get reacquainted with his, the front porch light flashes on and off a dozen or so times. It's a not-so-subtle signal from either Mom or Esme that we should get out of the car of our own volition, or else we'll be forcibly removed. Sighing in resignation, we angle our faces and rest forehead to forehead.

"I suppose we'd better get out of here before our carriage turns back into a pumpkin, and the two wicked witches fly in to take you away," he says ruefully.

"Dammit. I knew we should have eloped," I whine. "Where are you staying tonight?"

"The boat."

Grudgingly, I dismount from Edward's body, and we exit the car. Intermittent droplets of summer rain are falling, causing my mind to consider Ali's dire warning. Apparently, she had a dream last week, and now she's convinced that our outdoor wedding reception will be a wash-out, despite all forecasts to the contrary. I can only hope that the weatherman's prediction of a rain-free day in the high seventies is the correct one for tomorrow. Hand in hand, we slowly walk along the driveway towards the front door to give Edward's trouser tent enough time to subside.

As we reach the porch steps, Shelly Cope's new sensor activated security system blinds us by suddenly illuminating the front of the house and yard with an array of flood lights. Seriously, the lights are bright enough to render the nearby Dofflemyer Point lighthouse superfluous for any vessels entering Budd Inlet after dark.

Lifting our hands to our eyes and squinting against the lights, we watch as the door to Shelly's house swings open. The sound of rattling trash cans can be heard, and then we see a pair of raccoons scurrying over the 3-foot high hedge wall that separates the two yards. On seeing the two of us, the raccoons rapidly change direction and scamper along the driveway, heading for the lane. Standing barefooted on her front porch, wearing her short, rainbow-striped, cotton housecoat and a head full of hair-rollers, Shelly surveys her yard with a cell phone in one hand, and a metal baseball bat held tightly in the other.

"Hey, Shelly," Edward calls out.

She turns to look in our direction, nods, and raises the baseball bat in recognition. "Did ya see what set off my lights? Was it that peeper?" She almost looks hopeful as she walks towards the hedge. Edward and I walk towards the hedge, as well.

"It was just a couple of raccoons trying to get into the dust bins. They jumped the hedge and ran that way," Edward replies, pointing in the direction of the lane.

"You two look all gussied up. Have you been somewhere special tonight?"

"We've just come back from our rehearsal dinner," I explain.

"Oh, of course. So are you excited for tomorrow?" she asks, her smile beaming.

Just as Edward is about to reply, a shrill voice calls from the front door of Shelly's house. "Michelle! Michelle! Come in the house this instant!" Shelly rolls her eyes.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"My sister is back in town," she explains with a look of distaste. "Turned up on my doorstep this afternoon unannounced."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Edward says.

"Clara's a nun and works as a teacher. For the last four months, she's been living in a convent and teaching in the Mathare slum in Nairobi. Anyway, she was supposed to be there for two years, but she's come back for medical tests. Says it's something to do with her heart; although I don't see how that's remotely possible… she doesn't have one. I'm guessing she just didn't have the balls to stick it out and came home."

"You don't seem happy that she's here," I remark.

"Pardon my French, sweetie, but to put it bluntly, she's a bitch. Fancied herself as the next Mother Teresa, that one. Personally, I think she wanted to work with the poor just so people lower than her station would worship the ground she walks on. She's always been a bit holier than thou, and she's picked on me my whole life. Nothing I do is ever good enough. The first thing she did when she got here was to kick my boyfriend out and call me a whore."

"Michelle! Stop behaving like the whore of Babylon and get inside, or else put on some decent clothing."

"See what I mean?" Heeding her sister's domineering voice, Shelly turns, and with slumped shoulders, she walks alongside the hedge towards the trash cans. After replacing the lids on two of the cans, she goes back inside.

Edward and I turn and head back towards the porch steps. When we reach the front door, the flood lights go out. While Shelly may have gone overboard with the security lights, I can understand her paranoia. According to the local neighborhood watch group, there have been several reports of a peeping tom in the area, and apparently she's not taking any chances. I stifle another yawn and fall into Edward's embrace. Resting the side of my head against his chest, I'm lulled by the sound of his steady heartbeat, and I close my eyes. Today has been a long, tiring day, but it will undoubtedly pale in comparison with tomorrow.

"Time to come inside, Bella," Mom says, appearing at the front door.

Esme is standing behind her. "Yeah, Leah doesn't want us showing up at her salon tomorrow with bags and dark circles under our eyes."

I whimper in frustration as Edward chastely kisses my forehead and then my lips before releasing me. If I had my own way, I'd be falling into bed and spooning one last time with Edward as my fiancé. We haven't slept in the same bed together for over three weeks.

"I still think this is a stupid superstition," Edward grumbles. "It's not as though we're going through with an arranged marriage, and we're definitely not virgins waiting until we're married before sleeping in the same bed together."

"Don't remind me," Esme says, rolling her eyes as she opens the screen door, and then Mom pulls me inside. "Say 'goodnight', Edward."

"Goodnight, Bell. I love you."

"Love you, too."

"See you tomorrow at the wedding?"

I sigh. "Yeah, I suppose I'll drag myself out of the house to go. If you get there first, try to get us a spot up near the front. Keep an eye out for me; I'll be the one in white." I wink and then blow him a kiss. As I start to close the door, I check to see that Mom and Esme are no longer paying attention to me, and put my hand up to my ear, signaling that I want him to call me. "_Twenty minutes," _I mouth, and he grins in response.

**({'})** _Woohoo! Hot phone sex!_

"Would you like a cup of hot milk, Bella?" Esme asks, as she and Mom both head in the direction of the kitchen. "It will help you to sleep."

"Or else I have some Valium," Mom offers.

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I think I'll just go upstairs, shower, and get straight into bed."

-oo0oo-

**_Fifteen minutes later…_**

Freshly washed and dressed in a pale-pink jersey chemise and my robe, I exit the family bathroom at the end of the hallway and head for Edward's old room, which is the second master bedroom. I stick my head around the door in order to say goodnight to Mom, but I can hear the sound of the radio playing and running water in the en-suite. Unfortunately, I can also hear my mom singing along to MC Hammer.

_"You can't touch this  
>oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh<br>You can't touch this  
>oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh<br>Break it down."_

**({'}) **_You just know you're gonna have that song going through your head all night._

I walk into the room and approach the large, French armoire. My wedding gown is hanging on a coat hanger from one of its decorative finials. I reach out to run my hand over the bead work on the bodice, and my heart speeds up in anticipation of tomorrow. I wonder how Edward will react when he sees me wearing it.

Turning away from the gown, I call out, "Hey, Mom," loud enough for her to hear me through the closed door.

"If you're after a Valium, they're in the zipper compartment of my purse," she calls back. "I'm going to take one; my back has been giving me gyp all evening." Since recovering from her motorbike accident, Mom has had some lingering issues with back spasms. Every now and then, when the pain gets to be too much, she says the Valium helps.

"No, that's okay. I just wanted to say goodnight. Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too. Night, honey."

Now that I've safeguarded against sexy-phone-times-interruptus, I cross to the other side of the hallway and enter what used to be Rosie's bedroom when she lived here. I close the door behind me and hang my towel over the back of the chair. I slip my robe off, and then drape it over one of the ornately carved posts on the footboard of the king-sized bed. After discarding a dozen decorative pillows onto the chair, I turn on the bedside lamp and turn off the overhead lights. I fetch my iPad from my overnight bag, and then feeling like a little kid who's trying to get into their parent's bed in the middle of the night, I crawl into the center of the high mattress.

While I'm waiting for Edward to call, I figure I'll play some Candy Crush Saga. Not for the last time, I silently curse Ali for introducing me to the stupid game. I've been stuck on the same level for three days, but I can't give up because I'm so freakin' addicted. I adjust the pillows behind me so I can sit propped up against the headboard, and then I slide beneath the covers. After yet another failed attempt at level 79, my iPhone chirps, alerting me to a text. It's from Edward.

**({'})** _About damn time!_

**_Rapunzel, Rapunzel, with hair so fine. Come out your window and climb down the vine. – Ed xx_**

Knowing I've heard the quote somewhere before, I Google it and snort in laughter. Just as I'm halfway through texting the next line of the quote, my phone rings loudly. I quickly dive beneath the bedcovers to answer it. Esme and Carlisle's bedroom is next door, and Mom is just across the hallway. I don't want the 'rents to come in and confiscate my phone as if I'm an errant teenager staying up late by talking on a school night.

"Hi," I say softly into the phone.

_"Hi."_

I giggle. "I can't believe you just quoted 'The Princess Diaries'."

_"Actually, it was 'Princess Diaries Two'." _

"Some days I seriously worry about your masculinity. Princess Diaries today… an overwhelming enthusiasm to perform musical theatre tomorrow…"

_"You're questioning my masculinity?! You do know that Ewan McGregor guy you lust after has starred in a lot of musicals and he also wears a skirt." _

"Kilt! It's a kilt, not a skirt – but seriously, you've watched 'The Princess Diaries'? Both one _and_ two?"

_"I didn't watch it! I was googling for a Rapunzel line, the point of which has clearly gone right over your head. Open the bloody window! I'm starting to get cold out here!"_

"What?"

After hanging up the phone, I throw off the covers and walk over to the window. Pulling the drapes aside, I see a sodden Edward waving at me. He's standing outside on the ridge cap of the steeply pitched, shingled roof of the porch, below the level of the window. It seems the intermittent sprinkle of rain has turned into a heavy shower.

**({'}) **_El Capitán!_

Hurriedly, I flick the lock on the sash and push up the window, and I watch nervously as Edward jumps to grab the window ledge. He hoists his body up and into the room.

"Do you have a death wish? What are you doing here?" I hiss.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm defying our parents," he says, falling into the room with a loud thud. We both freeze for a moment, holding our breaths and waiting to hear if Mom, Esme, or Carlisle noticed the noise. After a minute of silence, we both relax.

"Mmm… for a soldier you're not very stealthy," I joke, leaning over his prone body with my hands on my hips. "How'd you get up here anyway?"

"The ladder." Grinning, he rolls over, reaches up and grasps the hem of my chemise, and then he uses the garment as a means to pull me down to his level. As soon as my knees hit the floor, he envelops me in his arms and rolls me over onto my back. I snicker until I realize the fabric of my chemise is starting to absorb the moisture from his skin and clothing.

"Ugh. You're all wet!" I wriggle out of his embrace and look down, holding the now saturated chemise away from my skin. "You made me wet, too," I complain. Edward chuckles darkly, and I know exactly where his mind went.

"That problem can be easily rectified," he says huskily, and in a flash he sits up and moves the thin straps of the chemise off my shoulders. With the speed of a magician performing the tablecloth trick, thereby demonstrating Newton's first law of motion, Edward yanks the garment down past my arms, my hips, and along the length of my legs, leaving me bare-assed naked on the wooden floorboards. He waggles his eyebrows and grins wickedly as he carelessly tosses my chemise over his shoulder. Teasingly, he glides the tips of his fingers from my knee to my navel, barely brushing his thumb over my clit during his ascent. I moan and then giggle at the tickling sensation. He arches a questioning eyebrow. "No knickers? Were you expecting me, Miss Swan?"

"I was expecting phone sex, but a booty call is even better. Take these wet clothes off," I urge, reaching out and pulling his pants zipper down.

"Oh. Cool. I've never been someone's booty call before." He loosens his tie and begins to undo the buttons of the gray shirt that is clinging to his body like a second skin.

I sit up and start to work on his belt. "Well, I've never had a booty call, and it's probably something I should get out of my system – ya know… since I'm getting married tomorrow."

"You're getting married tomorrow?" he teases.

"Yeah. So we'll have to be extremely quiet. My future-in-laws are in the next room." I give him a wink and grin.

"I see. Well, it sounds like your future-husband is a really lucky guy, but since he's not here, I'll gladly be the one who ravishes you tonight."

Edward's shirt falls to the floor, and I reach out to run my fingers over his abs. His skin, I realize, is quite cold, so I stand and walk to the chair to fetch my towel. Edward removes his shoes, socks, and pants while sitting on the floor until he's left in just a pair of navy colored boxer briefs.

"Here." I throw him the towel, and he stands and vigorously rubs it over his wet hair and body. I turn and then crawl across the bed to reach for my phone on the night stand. "I'll set a timer for an hour, just in case we fall asleep."

He removes his boxer briefs and then slides between the bedcovers. "So this really is a booty call? You're just going to use me for sex and kick me out?"

"Yep. Unless, of course, you're willing to face the wrath of our moms in the morning?"

He shakes his head, and I join him beneath the covers. In an instant, we are lying on our sides and facing one another, our hands reaching out to embrace the other's body. I wrap my arms around his neck while he slides his hands around my waist to grab my ass.

"No snuggling afterwards? I'll feel so dirty and used..." he laments, sighing dramatically before gripping the back of my thigh and hitching my leg over his hip. Immediately, his mouth begins to explore my earlobe while his large hand moves back to rest on my ass again. I snicker and then reach between our bodies to grasp his cock. Slowly, I begin to pump his hardening flesh.

"Don't act so put out. You love it dirty, and I know you enjoy it when I use you for my own pleasure." I move my hips forward to position his now fully erect cock in such a way that I can rub his frenulum, the most sensitive part of him, side to side and up and down over my clit. "Remember that day when I used your body to pleasure myself like this?" I ask, whispering seductively and rocking my hips.

Inspired after reading the erotic massage manual we were reviewing for the blog, I had tied his hands to the headboard with silk scarves and performed sumata, the non-penetrative sex act practiced by sex workers in Japan as a way of evading their anti-prostitution laws. By the time I finally allowed him to come, forty minutes later, I'd brought myself to orgasm three times.

His lips part and release my earlobe as I increase the pressure and pace of my movements._ A_ throaty groan begins to build up inside his chest, and I stifle the sound by crashing my lips against his mouth. Using my thigh, I push on his hip and encourage him to roll on to his back. Breaking the kiss, I sit up and begin to work myself over his cock in earnest.

"Such a fucking tease," he pants, looking down and watching as I glide my now wet pussy over him. "There's a condom in my pants pocket. You'd better-"

"Do you really want me to stop?" I ask, sliding the head of his cock through my folds. I place the tip at my entrance and move my hips down; just enough to feel the slightest stretching sensation. I bite my lip and smile as I consider how nice it would be to allow his cock to slip right inside of me. The mere thought of how it will feel – our bodies joined for the first time without any barriers – makes my pussy clench with anticipation and desire. We're getting married tomorrow; it's time to give us both what we want.

**({'})** _YIPPEE!_

"You're playing with fire, Bella," he growls, his fingers gripping my thighs, the nails digging into my skin.

"Just feel me," I whisper, and I begin to push down, taking him into me as slowly as I can stand. As soon as the head of his cock slips further inside, his jaw drops. His eyes clamp shut, his back arches, and his intake of breath is sharp. However, just as quickly, as though he can't believe it's actually happening, his eyes fly open again.

"Bella?" He's looking at me in wonder.

"Uhh… this feels… so good… so different… just…" Words fail me as I push down more insistently and rotate my hips, entirely losing myself to the sensation. Edward moans in response, and quietly I beg, "Move with me, Edward."

"Oh fuck." Gripping my waist, he bucks his hips up and pulls me down hard as I continue to circle my hips, creating a delicious friction. "Oh, God… thank fuck for not stopping," he mumbles almost incoherently. He lifts me up and pulls me down just as slowly as the first stroke, and I'm nearly weeping due to the indescribable feeling of his hot, bare cock touching me in all the places I need it to. His strong hands hold me and guide me up then down, again and again, our excruciating pace never increasing. Edward's breaths are shaky and rough. "Waited so long. Don't know how long I'll last. It feels so good; I've never-"

I lean forward and cut him off with a kiss. "I know, and it doesn't matter. Just enjoy the feeling."

Edward has never gone bareback before, and I love that I'm the first to give him this, and I trust I'll be the only one – for as long as we are together – till death do us part.

"Perfect," he moans, "so fucking perfect." Letting go of my hips, he reaches up to brush his thumbs over my peaked nipples, and I can feel that his hands are trembling. Finally unrestrained, I sit back and begin to rock faster.

_SQUEAK-THUD._

_SQUEAK-THUD. _

_SQUEAK-THUD._

_SQUEAK-THUD._

"Stop. Shhh," Edward says, stilling my hips, and I stop moving. We both look towards the headboard and then towards the door. After a minute, I start moving again, but as soon as I increase the rhythm…

_SQUEAK-THUD._

"Bell..." Edward stills my hips again, and I groan in frustration. "This isn't going to work. They'll hear us."

"Maybe if we get into a different position?" I suggest.

"Like what?"

"Spooning?"

"Okay." Reluctantly, I climb off Edward's lap and lay on my side, facing the door. I push my bottom back as he tucks his body in behind mine. "I love you so much," he says, entering me. His left hand tangles in the back of my hair and pulls gently, arching my neck.

"Speak to me in Italian," I implore.

"Ti amo più della mia stessa vita," he whispers, the words heatedly brushing the side of my neck and collarbone. Soft lips kiss my shoulder. "Sei tutto per me."

The fingers of the other hand drift down to circle my clit, causing me to moan and arch my body. He's yet to move, so I reach my hand back to grip the side of his ass, an unspoken plea for him to fuck me.

He starts thrusting.

_SQUEAK-THUD._

_SQUEAK-THUD._

_SQUEAK-THUD._

He stops moving. "Shit. This isn't going to work either." With a huff, Edward pulls out of me and gets off the bed.

"What are you doing?" I ask, smiling. I'm enjoying the view of naked and hard Edward walking about, and I wonder what position we'll try next.

"Get off the bed. I'll see if I can pull it away from the wall."

"All right." I get out of bed and watch as Edward attempts to pull the heavy bed away from the wall without success, and I snicker.

"You know, Bell; a little help wouldn't go astray here," he says exasperatedly.

"Oh, right." I move into position.

"Okay, on the count of three – pull. One, two, three..."

With all of our strength, we pull on the footboard of the bed; me on one side and him on the other.

_CRACK. CRACK._

I narrowly miss having my foot crushed, but I somehow manage to step back just in time.

_CRASH._

"Oh God," I say, staring in disbelief at the destruction we've just caused. The footboard has completely broken away from the frame, and the base of the bed has collapsed, cracking the polished floorboards beneath.

"Uh-oh."

"What are we gonna do?"

**({'}) **_I can't believe you broke the bed… and not in the good way._

"Bella?" Esme and Carlisle's voices call out in unison. Edward and I look at each other in panic.

"Hide!" I whisper.

"Where?"

There's no bathroom or walk-in closet attached to this room, but there's a chiffarobe, and I point to it. "In there?"

Edward walks to the chiffarobe and pulls on the handle. "It's locked. Is there a key?"

I shrug and shake my head. "I dunno."

Like a sign from Heaven, the night breeze billows the drapes, just as I hear the door to Esme and Carlisle's room open. Hastily, I pick up Edward's boxer briefs and throw them at him.

"The window," I hiss.

"But-"

"Just wait outside. I'll get rid of them somehow."

Naked, but carrying his underwear, Edward climbs out of the window as I quickly gather up the rest of his clothes and shove them into one of the empty dresser drawers. The knock on the door startles me, and I yelp in alarm.

"Just a minute," I call out in a sing-song voice. Hastily, I pick up my chemise and throw it on.

They knock on the door again; this time more insistently. "Bella? Are you okay? We heard a loud noise," Carlisle says.

"Erm… I'm fine. Go back to bed."

The handle of the door rattles. "What was that bang then? It felt like it shook the house." The door to the bedroom opens widely. Esme, dressed in a T-shirt and long pajama pants, gasps when she sees the state of the bed and floor. "What the-?"

Carlisle, wearing only a pair of white, cotton sleep shorts, quickly enters the room to stand at the foot end of the destroyed bed. "What happened here?"

"Um. Not sure," I lie. "I just… like… rolled over, and then the bed broke… and stuff…"

**({'}) **_*face-palm*_

Getting down on his knees, Carlisle picks up one end of the heavy footboard and examines it.

**({'}) **_Phwoar! Check out that body! Esme is one lucky lady. His ass is almost as drool-worthy as Edward's._

Libby… that's not appropriate!

**({'}) **_We can look, but we can't touch. _

**({'}) **_Can't touch that. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. Can't touch that. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. Break it down._

Dear God…

"Esme, come here and take a look at this," he says pointing to a splintered section of wood. Esme and I both approach, wondering what were meant to see. "Woodworm," he announces gravely. "Can you see all of these little pin-sized flight holes? It means the bed frame has been infested with woodworm. They've probably been burrowing and laying their eggs in here for at least three years."

"Well, what does that mean? Can the bed be fixed?" she asks.

Carlisle shakes his head. "We'll have to get rid of it – dismantle it and burn the pieces, and then it's wise to get a professional in to check the rest of the house and wooden furniture. We need to ensure the problem is confined to this room and isn't widespread."

Esme sobs. "My grandfather carved this bed with his own two hands. It was his gift to my nanna when they got married. My grandparents passed it down to my parents when they got married. My sister and I were probably conceived in this bed."

**({'}) **_Hate to tell you this, Esme, but if not for the woodworm, tonight your grandchild might have been conceived in it too!_

"You'd better gather your things, Bella," Carlisle says, placing the headboard back on the floor and turning to look at me. A strange expression crosses his face, and he quickly looks down again. "You can either sleep in the other room with Ren, or else we can set up the sofa bed in the living room; whatever you prefer."

**({'}) **_Oh-Em-Gee. I think Daddy C just checked you out._

Confused, I look down at myself and soon discover a few things.

Firstly, my boobs are at high-beam, and my nips are so pointy they could take out an eye.

Secondly, my chemise is inside-out and back-to-front.

And thirdly, the chemise is still damp in parts from when Edward held me. There's an obvious large handprint over my crotch region which if I had my chemise on correctly, it would be resting over the swell of my ass.

"Um… I think I'd prefer to sleep in the living room," I say, quickly crossing my arms over my chest and resting my chin in my palm in an effort to conceal the nips and the size tag. "Mom's taken a Valium for her back, and she's a snorer."

To make the situation even more awkward, Carlisle picks up my robe from the floor, revealing a single red sock – a man's sock. Carlisle raises an eyebrow at me, giving me a knowing look.

Yeah… not much gets past Colonel Cullen.

I bite my lip nervously.

**({'}) **_So busted._

To my amazement and relief, he surreptitiously picks up the sock and manages to stuff it into the pocket of my robe before handing it to me, leaving Esme none the wiser because she's busily folding up the bedding.

I pull on my robe and tie the sash. From the dresser, I grab my overnight bag and stuff my phone and iPad into it, then head for the door. I want to get Esme out of the room as soon as possible before she accidentally discovers something that might clue her to the fact that Edward was in the room. Esme passes the quilt and sheet to Carlisle, who joins me in the hallway, and then she follows us, carrying a pillow. Just as she's about to close the bedroom door, a strong gust of wind slams it shut.

"Oh… the window must be open. I'll just close it. Can you take this downstairs for me?" she asks, handing the pillow to Carlisle and reaching for the door handle. I almost open my mouth to protest, but Carlisle stops me with a look and a small shake of his head before walking towards the stairs. I watch on helplessly as Esme struggles to pull down the window, inadvertently locking her mostly-naked son out of the house.

By the time Esme and I arrive in the living room, Carlisle has stacked the cushions to one side and is wrestling with the metal frame of the sofa bed. Once the frame has been unfolded, and the mattress straightened out, I help Esme to make the bed. Carlisle heads upstairs again, and I can only hope he'll go back into the bedroom to open the window so Edward can get his clothes, phone, wallet, and keys. Without his keys, he won't be able to get inside the boat.

Suddenly, there's a metallic crash, and on instinct Esme and I turn around. Although it's quite dark outside, through a gap in the sheer drapes that cover the large windows, I can just make out that my underwear clad fiancé is picking himself up off the ground. Esme screams, and in an instant, Edward sprints across the driveway. With the style and grace of a free-runner, he vaults his body over the hedge and disappears. Then there is another loud metallic crash, followed by another.

"Carlisle! Carlisle! There's a naked man outside! I'm calling the police!" Esme runs to the hallstand to fetch her handbag, and she pulls out her phone.

"What? No! Don't do that," I cry in alarm, and I lunge at Esme to bat the phone out of her hand. The lighting level in the living room suddenly becomes a whole lot brighter, and I realize Edward must have set off Shelly Cope's security lights.

**({'}) **_Uh-oh._

"Why? Why, shouldn't I call the police? What's going on, Bella?" Esme asks insistently, scrambling to pick up the phone from the floor just as Carlisle reaches the bottom of the stairs.

"Calm down, Esme," Carlisle says.

"Calm down! Calm down?" she screeches. "There's a man outside, and he's gone into Shelly's yard. I think it's the peeping tom!"

"It's not a peeping tom. It's Edward. He was with Bella, and he left through the window before you and I entered the bedroom."

Carlisle takes the phone out of her hand, and we follow as he heads for the front door. Once outside, we see a length of broken guttering resting on the ground. Although the rain has stopped, there's quite a breeze, and I wrap my kimono robe around me a little tighter.

"See… he got into the room using the ladder from the garage. I was upstairs and was about to let him back in, but before I could open the window, I saw Edward jump down from the roof. He must have panicked."

Esme turns to look at me and narrows her eyes. In response, I blush in embarrassment. She looks as though she's about to say something, but we're startled by the sound of a gunshot and a manly scream.

"Arrrrrrghhhhhhh." Edward's voice echoes through the night air. "Shit! I can't believe you shot me!"

"NO!" Esme and I scream in unison.

Pandemonium takes over as Carlisle, Esme, and I, collide as we simultaneously race down the porch steps. Carlisle takes the lead. He runs and attempts to leap over the hedge like a hurdler while Esme and I rush to the gate at the end of the driveway.

"Ow. Bugger," I hear Carlisle exclaim, followed by a metallic clang and a thud, but I don't stop running.

"You! Get down on the ground and put your hands on the back of your head," I hear a woman's voice shout.

"Noooooo!" I cry, when I finally comprehend the scene that's taking place on the other side of the hedge.

A woman with a severely short haircut, wearing a long, purple house coat is standing over the prone forms of Edward and Carlisle, and she's pointing a shotgun at the back of Carlisle's head. Trash cans are tipped over, and their contents are strewn over the grass.

**({'}) **_Oh God, oh God, oh God._

I hear the sound of the screen door opening, and Shelly shouts in alarm as she runs towards her sister. "Clara? What on Earth are you doing out here with Larry's gun?"

"Here's your peeping tom," Clara announces menacingly. "Two of them actually." As she turns to address her sister, the barrel of the gun moves to point at the back of Edward's head.

"Get the hell away from my family!" Esme yells fearlessly, overtaking me. She runs towards Clara and hip checks her like a hockey player. The two women grapple with the gun, which fires wildly, and in an act of self-preservation, I immediately dive behind a nearby Italian Cypress. After a few seconds, the gun skids across the wet grass, stopping near my feet. I pick it up and throw it over the hedge into the Cullen's yard, out of harm's way.

"Carlisle? Edward? Are you okay?" Esme cries. "Edward, where are you hit?" I turn from the hedge, and watch with my heart in my throat as Esme falls to her knees beside her son and husband.

"Oh my God, Clara! What have you done?" Shelly yells, slapping her hands on her sister's shoulders and pushing her so hard that she stumbles and falls backwards to the ground. "They're not perverts! That's Edward and Carlisle – my neighbors!"

"My arse. She shot me in the arse," Edward moans.

**({'}) **_Noooooooooooooo!_

I race over to Edward just as Carlisle rises up on hands and knees and pulls the back of Edward's briefs down – revealing Edward's spectacularly muscled behind for all to see. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Of course I'm bloody sure," Edward retorts angrily over his shoulder. "I felt it!"

"Well I don't understand 'cause I'm telling you there's no wound. There's a slight discoloration on the skin, but I can't see any blood."

Shelly picks something off the ground and examines it. It looks like a spent bullet casing. Coming to a conclusion, she puts a hand to her chest and releases a huge sigh. "Rock salt," she says, shaking her head with obvious relief. "Clara must have grabbed some of the old bullet shells my ex-husband made. Larry used to fill these shells with rock salt for shooting at squirrels, raccoons, and rats. They're non-lethal at a distance, but will sting like the dickens."

"You're not kidding," Edward says, pulling up the back of his briefs before rolling over.

Due to the rain, the front of Edward's boxer briefs are saturated, and his torso and thighs are covered in grass clippings. He stands up and then helps Esme off the ground.

Carlisle stands up too.

**({'}) **_Oh my… it's El Coronel._

"Err… Carlisle… you might want to…" I start to say, alerting him to the fact that his junk is hanging out through a large rip in the front of his wet sleep shorts. Turning away in embarrassment, I pull Edward's sock out of my pocket and offer it to him as a way to cover up.

"Oh. I'm so sorry you had to see that, Bella," Carlisle says apologetically.

**({'}) **_I'm not! _

**({'}) **_Can't touch that. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh…_

Shut up, Libby.

Edward starts laughing, but then looks at me in incredulity. "Hey! Is that mine?" He pulls the sock out of my grasp. "This is my sock! No way… eww." He shakes his head as if the mere thought of his sock anywhere near Carlisle's genitals is abhorrent.

"I've got this, darling," I hear Esme say behind me.

I look over and notice Shelly is still staring at Carlisle, and I grab her by the shoulders and turn her around. "Party pooper," she huffs.

"Seriously, Bella, what were you thinking?" Edward asks, still disturbed by the whole sock to penis situation.

"You've never heard of a cock sock, Edward?" Shelly asks, giggling. "They use them in movies all the time to cover the modesty of male actors during nude scenes. Stephen Moyer from 'True Blood' wears one. He even donated a signed one for a charity auction on Ebay a few years ago. I thought about bidding, but then the price went over $1000…"

"Why on Earth would anyone want to bid on a used cock sock?" Edward asks, screwing up his nose in disgust.

"Safe socks?" I shrug, and then Shelly and I start giggling.

"Ya know Alexander Skarsgård says he doesn't wear a cock sock when filming," she says wiggling her eyebrows comically. "Let's all just think about that for a moment."

**({'}) **_*flails* *dies*_

I start giggling again, and Edward rolls his eyes at us.

"Okay, it's safe to turn around," Esme announces.

I turn around, and I feel my eyes widen in surprise. Esme is standing there in her lacy, black bra and pajama pants. Her T-shirt is tucked into the front of Carlisle's sleep shorts like a loincloth.

**({'}) **_Nice rack, Esme. _

"Ugh, Mum!" Edward says, putting a hand over his eyes in horror and turning around again. "I thought you said it was safe. No one needs to see... that."

"Oh for goodness sake, Edward. Grow up! And to think I actually breastfed you for nearly three years."

"MUM! Stop!"

I burst into giggles again, and Carlisle joins in, but then we're interrupted by the temporarily forgotten Clara, who is now making some weird gasping noises.

"Perverts," the old woman wheezes, clutching her chest and pointing in accusation. "You're all a bunch of perverts, and you're going to Hell!" She makes a strange gurgling sound in the back of her throat and then keels backwards.

Although this horrid excuse for a woman tried to kill them, Edward and Carlisle rush over to Clara, and they immediately check for a response, pulse, and breaths. "She's not breathing, and I can't feel a pulse. Call for an ambulance," Edward says.

"Where's my phone?" Esme asks Carlisle.

"I dropped it when I tripped over Edward. I was about to look for it when the old bat pointed the gun at me and ordered me to the ground." Esme and Carlisle both search the grass for the phone while Edward starts undoing the buttons on Clara's housecoat.

"Found it! It was under the hedge," Carlisle announces, and he makes the call.

Edward pinches the old woman's nose between his thumb and forefinger and looks as though he's about to give the kiss of life.

"Stop!" Esme says. "You're doing it wrong."

"What do you mean?" Edward asks.

"You don't do the breaths anymore."

"You don't? Since when?"

"I just remember there was a commercial on TV with Vinnie Jones in it. You only have to do the compressions, but you have to do it to the beat of a particular song."

"What song?" he asks, looking incredulous.

Esme's brows furrow and she starts clicking her fingers, trying to recall the song. "Oh it was… tsk… uh… what was the name of it? It was uh. Something to do with John Travolta… damn it's right on the tip of my tongue."

Edward looks to me, but I shrug. This situation is beyond my comprehension, and I'm beginning to wonder if this whole chain of events is an elaborate hoax. Edward uses his fingers to find the right position above Clara's sternum, and then he starts to perform cardiac compressions. "One, and two, and three…"

"I think it's a Bee Gees song," Esme mutters.

"If you bring her back from the dead, I will never forgive you, Edward Cullen," Shelly says.

"What? You can't just expect me to sit back and do nothing," Edward replies, clearly shocked at Shelly's attitude. "Plus, she's a nun."

"I told you before, she's a bitch, and she deserves it. I hope you die, Clara!" Shelly yells at the lifeless woman. "Go to the light. This is your come to Jesus moment."

Ignoring Shelly, Edward continues. "One, and two, and three, and four…"

"Carlisle?" Esme calls over to her husband who has just finished speaking on the phone. He's walking back towards us. "What was that song you're supposed to do resuscitation to? I think it was a Bee Gees song."

"Stayin' Alive?" he replies, unsure.

"Yes! Yes! Of course, that's it!" Esme says excitedly." We have to sing 'Stayin' Alive'. It's the right amount of beats per minute."

"Well go ahead. Start singing then," Edward says, continuing to pound on Clara's chest.

"Um… I don't know the words. Carlisle?"

Carlisle shakes his head. "I don't know them either. I was never a fan of the Bee Gees. I listened to David Bowie and Queen."

"Maybe you should sing 'Another One Bites The Dust' then," Shelly says sarcastically, sitting on the lid of a trash can to watch.

With a look of expectation, they're suddenly all staring at me.

I gulp.

"Ugh. I can't believe I'm about to do this," I complain.

I hate singing in public at the best of times. It's bad enough that I have to sing nursery rhymes at the aquatic center, but this?

I take a deep breath and start to sing.

"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk  
>I'm a woman's man: no time to talk<br>Erm… Something, something, something,  
>I've been kicked around since I was born.<br>But it's all right. That's okay  
>You may look the other way<br>We can try to understand  
>Something, something. Something, something."<p>

"I thought you said you knew the lyrics," Esme complains.

"No, I didn't!" I retort.

"Bella!" Edward snaps, reminding me there are more important matters to attend to.

"Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,  
>you're staying alive, staying alive.<br>Feel the city breaking and everybody shaking,  
>and we're staying alive, staying alive.<br>Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive, staying alive.  
>Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive!"<p>

"Well, that was quick. Listen…" Carlisle says. In the distance, we can hear the sound of a siren.

"Thank God," I mutter, "because I have no idea how the next part of the song goes."

"It's okay. I've got the general idea now," Edward says, and then I can hear him humming the tune as he continues pushing on Clara's sternum.

The ambulance pulls up in front of Shelly's house, and a uniformed man and woman run into the yard. As we explain what happened and what we know about Clara's recent heart issues, they roll her onto a board, give her breaths of oxygen with an ambu-bag, and cut through the front of her nightgown to attach a pair of electrode pads to her chest.

An electronic voice speaks from an automatic defibrillator device, instructing the rescuers to wait and to keep their hands off their victim because it's analyzing the heart rhythm.

"Looks like V-tach," the woman says to the man while looking at the readout.

"Prepare to shock," the machine announces.

"Clear," the man warns, and he quickly checks to ensure he and his colleague are safe before pressing a flashing button on the defibrillator. Clara's body spasms when the current passes into her chest.

"Commence CPR," the electronic voice advises. The rescuers move in, and like a well-oiled machine, they work together, performing chest compressions while using the ambu-bag. After the second shock, they swap their positions to prevent the female rescuer from fatiguing while performing compressions.

Esme holds onto Carlisle's arm while I cling to Edward's side. I watch on helplessly, feeling sick to my stomach. This is our fault – mine and Edward's. If not for our stupid libidos, this wouldn't have happened. I turn to look at Shelly, who is still sitting on the trash can and resignedly observing the scene before her.

After the fourth shock, the female announces, "We've got sinus rhythm." While the woman works to apply an oxygen mask and insert an IV line, the man returns to the ambulance to get a gurney. Using the board, they lift the tiny woman onto the gurney and load her into the ambulance. The woman then returns to speak to Shelly. She asks if she wants to ride with her sister to the hospital.

"You're kidding me," Shelly retorts. "If you actually knew her like I do, you wouldn't want to piss on her if she was on fire; but if you're willing to wait, I'll go inside and get her purse. That way, you can pass her details on to the hospital."

The woman looks in shock at Shelly's retreating form until she hears her colleague's voice speaking in alarm from the back of the ambulance.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Get your hands off my breasts, you filthy pervert!" Clara yells, and then we hear the unmistakable sound of a slap.

"Shit, lady, stop hitting me, or I'm gonna have to restrain you. I'm only trying to listen to your chest. This is a stethoscope! Arrgh."

The woman races to the back of the ambulance, and after a minute or two of yelling and struggling, during which time Clara has cursed both rescuers to an eternity in the fiery pits of Hell, they somehow manage to subdue their unwilling patient.

The man exits the ambulance, slams the rear doors shut, and climbs up into the driver's seat. Shelly reappears from the house with her sister's handbag and passes it to the man through the open window. The ambulance then takes off, leaving us standing in Shelly's yard.

Waggling her finger between me and Edward, Esme says sternly, "Follow me, you two; we're going to have some words." We start to follow, but stop in our tracks when a police cruiser pulls into the driveway. An officer, who I vaguely recall is named Afton, steps out of the car. From the passenger seat, Dad gets out, and he's still dressed in the clothing he was wearing at the rehearsal dinner.

"Are you okay, Bells?" he asks curiously, squinting against the lights. I can see he's taken aback by the fact we're all standing in the middle of the yard in various states of undress. "I was at the station doing some last minute things before the weekend when I heard the call come over the radio. Someone reported shots in the area, and I heard an ambulance was dispatched to this address. What's going on?"

It takes us a few minutes to explain the situation, and I direct Officer Afton to where I threw the gun. He collects the gun for evidence and formally takes our statements, suggesting that Clara may be charged for illegal usage of a firearm, a fact that delights Shelly.

After the interviews, Officer Afton takes off back to the station, and after saying goodnight to Shelly, we head towards the Cullen's house. Dad decides to hang around for a while until another cruiser comes past to pick him up, and he follows us. Once inside, I take a seat next to Edward on the sofa bed. Edward wraps the quilt around us, and he puts a protective arm over my shoulder. I curl into his side.

"I don't know about you, Charlie, but I could use a drink," Carlisle says, flopping down on the sofa next to my dad. Dad nods.

"Me too," Esme agrees, walking out of the room. She returns to the living room a minute later wearing a new T-shirt, and she's carrying a bottle of scotch in one hand and a tray of glasses in the other. She sets them both down on the coffee table and begins to pour a drink for her husband. "Bella?" she asks, holding up an empty glass.

I shake my head. "No, thanks."

"So, Edward. Care to explain what you thought you were doing; climbing in through the upstairs window like a love-sick Romeo, and damaging my gutters," Esme asks while pouring him a glass.

Edward shrugs. "Isn't it obvious? Or do you want explicit details?"

Esme looks at him in exasperation. "One night. You couldn't control your hormones for just one night." She shakes her head and hands him the glass.

"It's been more than that, and you know it. Technically, I've been away from Bella for over three weeks, and I've missed her more than you know. With all the other wedding stuff going on – you, Ren, and Sue taking off with Bella the other night and giving her a hen's party, and then me at my bachelor party yesterday and last night – I needed to be with her; alone, just us two. I wanted us to be able to talk in private and have some fun."

We're all silent for a moment when Dad suddenly speaks up. "Well, son… you know what they say about that, then…"

"What?" Edward asks, taking a sip of scotch.

We're all looking at Dad, waiting for him to swallow his mouthful so we can hear the sage words of wisdom he's about to impart.

"It's all fun and games until some nun gets hurt." Dad grins.

Edward chokes on his drink and starts coughing. "That was really lame. I can't believe you just said that."

I groan and roll my eyes while Dad chuckles at Edward's reaction.

"Good one," Carlisle says, clapping my dad on the back and snickering. "Honestly, Chief, you should've seen her – completely barking mad with a face like a cat's arse."

"You two are awful," Esme complains, but I can see she's attempting to stifle her smile by taking a drink.

I start giggling, and then Esme does too. Finally, Edward joins in.

"Ugh. We're all going to Hell," Edward says when we all finally stop laughing.

-oo0oo-

_**Saturday July 6**__**th**__** - 1.05am**_

By the time I crawled into bed next to my mom, it was after midnight. Carlisle and Esme have gone back to their bedroom, and because it started raining again, Edward is sleeping downstairs on the sofa bed. I have strict orders to stay upstairs until Edward leaves with Carlisle in the morning.

I'm getting _married_ today.

_I'm_ getting married today.

I'm getting married... _today!_

I can't fall asleep.

**({'}) **_You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. Break it down._

I look over at my mom who is snoring soundly. She has earplugs in her ears, which explains why she slept through the whole debacle.

Wish I could sleep…

Wish I had some earplugs, too.

I get up again and head for the bathroom to get a glass of water, and that's when I see a bottle of pills on the vanity sink. I pick up the bottle and read the label. Valium 10mg.

Should I?

**({'}) **_You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. Break it down._

Ugh. What the hell…

I swallow the pill with a glass of water and head back to bed.

I stare at the ceiling.

**({'}) **_You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. _

Shut up.

**({'}) **_You can't touch this. Oh-oh oh oh-oh-oh. _

Shut. Up.

**({'}) **_Party time!_

* * *

><p><strong> AN **

**Italian****  
><strong>**_Ti amo più della mia stessa vita._**** = I love you more than my own life.  
><strong>**_Sei tutto per me._**** = You mean everything to me.**

**Spanish****  
><strong>**_El Coronel_**** = The Colonel.**

**Funny "Hands Only" CPR video produced by The British Heart Foundation starring Vinnie Jones. Remove brackets to get the link to work. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/ZG6YaG**

**Stephen Moyer of True Blood really did auction a signed cock sock for charity. (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/CockSockAuction**

**Songs and lyrics mentioned in this chapter:  
>U Can't Touch This - by MC Hammer<br>Stayin' Alive - by The Bee Gees  
>Another One Bites The Dust - by Queen<br>**


	151. Chapter 151

"Miss Swan?"

I stand and approach the silver-haired man who beckons me with a come-hither gesture.

"Yes?"

Placing his hand over the small, wireless microphone that is attached to his lapel, he bends towards me and speaks in a low voice. "Just thought I should mention I have another wedding to officiate in barely over an hour. Do you have any idea when, or _if_, the groom plans on turning up?"

"N-no." My answer squeaks feebly around the expanding lump inside my throat.

He gazes at me in pity before glancing down at his watch. "I'll wait ten more minutes; it's the best I can do."

Tossing my bouquet onto the front pew, I take a seat, toe off my heels, and stretch out my legs; resigned to the fact that this whole thing has just become my worst nightmare. It's my wedding day, and I can't believe I've been left standing at the altar.

Fuck.

Feeling heartsick, I drop my head and try, unsuccessfully, not to cry in front of everyone. When loud sobs escape, I feel a comforting arm wrap around my shoulder. The moment I turn to my right, to thank my bridesmaid for the support, I realize this _is_ a nightmare, and I don't mean figuratively. Violently shrugging out of the side-hug, I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand.

"Aw, no. Not now," I grumble at Mrs. Cope. "Please. Not another wedding related nightmare."

I slap my arm and then my cheek as hard as I can. "Wake up, Bella. Wake up! Wake up, dammit! Fuck my fucking fucked up psyche."

Mrs Cope tilts her head to the side, studying me. "They say the first sign of madness is talking to yourself, you know."

"So I've been told before. Why are you here? You're not one of my real bridesmaids. And what in the blue hell are you wearing?"

In this dream, my four supposed bridesmaids – Rosie, Leah, Ali, and Mrs. Cope – are all in dresses that are exact replicas of the dress I wore to the senior prom.

While the teal, velvet, halter-neck dress I wore was stylish enough for the mid-nineties, three other girls (and the school's only trans-gendered guy) also turned up wearing the same dress – just in different colors – red, gold, royal-blue, and hot-pink. If we had dared to stand together instead of avoiding each other like the plague, we'd have looked like a bunch of Power Rangers; not that it all mattered in the long run.

An hour into the evening, my date, Liam (the first boy to show any interest in me beyond friendship) threw up on me. After cleaning most of the vomit off my dress and from between my cleavage, I phoned Dad and asked him to come and get us. We waited outside the venue for half an hour, only to be picked up in the police cruiser. On the way home, we stopped twice to allow Liam to vomit again, and Dad accused him of being drunk. Then, to my absolute horror, he forced my date to perform a sobriety test on the sidewalk in front of his parents' house – in front of his parents.

As it turned out, poor Liam had contracted mono, and since we'd shared our first (and only) kiss on the way to prom, I also came down with it some weeks later. Until the day Amazon dot com inadvertently revealed my first vibrator purchase to my co-ed roommates, the night of the disastrous senior prom had been number one on my list of '_life's_ _most mortifying moments'_. Needless to say, Liam never asked me on another date, and I burned the bad luck dress.

As I continue to slap and pinch myself in a fruitless effort to wake up, Leah, Ali, and Rosie sit to the left of me on the pew, and they observe my actions in amused expectation.

Turning back to my right, I notice Mrs. Cope is giggling hysterically while throwing sprays of confetti into the air. "Yay! We're getting maaaaaarried!"

While attempting to catch bits of confetti on her tongue, Mrs. Cope loses her balance and falls off the end of the pew. On hands and knees, she giggles and then crawls underneath a pew on the opposite side of the aisle.

"God; she's so weird," I complain.

Rosie shakes her head in wonderment at Mrs. Cope's antics and says, "Don't blame her; this is all your doing."

"How do you figure that?"

"It's the Valium," she explains.

"And the cheese," Ali chimes in.

Leah rolls her eyes at Ali. "It's not the damn cheese!" She, too, turns to address me. "In case you haven't worked it out yet, Bella, you took consciousness-altering substances in order to get to sleep, so to quote Nancy Reagan, 'I'm here for the drugs.'"

Rosie stands and points an accusing finger at me. "And in the words of Hunter S. Thompson, 'You took too much man, too much, _too_ much!'"

"Oh, right." I sigh in resignation. It seems I'm here for the duration. "So, where's Libby?" I ask, realizing she's nowhere to be seen.

They all look at me like I'm mad and shrug. It appears as though Rosie is about to say something, when we hear a yelp from the other side of the aisle.

"What in the hell?" a man's voice yells from the other pew, and four men wearing kilts suddenly stand up.

"Och! You're a real Scotsman, aren't you!" Mrs. Cope giggles.

"Who are they?" I ask, staring in fascination at the backs of the thighs of the person who is bending down to pull Mrs. Cope out from under the pew.

"Oh, they're just the groomsmen," Leah says nonchalantly.

While I can only see them from the back, I know they aren't Emmett, Jazz, or Carlisle because they are also shirtless.

The man, who is holding Mrs. Cope 's wrist tightly, turns and drags her towards us. My mouth drops open in shock. "Oh my God."

"Does this belong to you?" Ewan McGregor asks, shoving Mrs. Cope at me forcefully, causing her to fall at my feet. "If so, I think you need to keep her on a tight leash."

"Ooooh. A leash. How kinky, Obi Wan," Rosie purrs, seductively crossing one leg over the other and revealing some thigh. "I have a Princess Leia slave costume, you know." She winks.

Ewan and I just glare at her.

Looking back to Ewan, I try to apologize without ogling. "Sorry. Mrs. Cope can't help it. She gets a bit out of control sometimes. I think it's early onset dementia."

Speaking to me again, he asks, "Any idea when this wedding is going to get started?"

I shrug and sigh. "I don't think it's going to happen – at least not in this dream anyway."

"Pity." Putting his thumb and forefinger to his lips, Ewan whistles to capture the attention of the other groomsmen. "Show's over fellas – let's get out of here."

The three men turn and walk over to stand with Ewan, and that's when I discover their identities. They are Alexander Skarsgård and Stephen Moyer from '_True Blood_', and David Beckham – ex-soccer player and underwear model.

"Dayum!" Leah drawls, looking like a horny bitch in heat.

"I wonder what's underneath their kilts?" Ali muses aloud.

"Wouldn't you like to know…?" Stephen smirks, revealing a single pointy fang.

Offering him a seductive smile in response, Leah replies, "Yeah, I know I would. I really, really would."

"Too bad. Without a wedding ceremony, there's no real reason for us to hang around here, and besides, I need a drink." Clapping Alexander on the shoulder and gesturing to the door with a sideways nod of his head, Steven says, "I noticed some pure blonde long necks on the way in. What do you say?"

"Sounds like a plan," Alexander replies, giving Stephen a toothy-fanged grin in return. They both turn to leave.

Considering this is a dream, and they are actors who portray vampires on TV, I have no idea if they are planning on partaking of the long-necked bottles of '_Pure Blonde_' (the Australian low-carb beer) or actual blonde people with long necks.

"Don't go just yet," Ali begs. "Edward still might turn up."

"But we're bored," Alexander whines.

"How about a game to pass the time?" she suggests. "What if we take bets? If we can correctly guess what's under the kilts, will you wait a bit longer?"

To my surprise, the men agree.

"Take a seat, Ewan," Leah says.

"Why?" he asks.

"Far be it from me to suggest you are predictable, but I'm pretty sure there are as-of-yet undiscovered tribes in the heart of the Amazonian jungle who know you aren't wearing anything underneath that skirt. We've seen it all before, and we have no idea when Bella will suddenly wake up, so-"

Mrs. Cope interrupts, "Plus, I already poked at the snake when you were over there." She indicates to the pew on the other side of the aisle and giggles.

"Okay, okay you've made your point, but it's a kilt, not a skirt! It only becomes a skirt if you wear underwear," he snarls. "Isn't that right, Becks?" As though realizing his blunder, Ewan gives himself a facepalm and shakes his head in embarrassment.

"Good one, dickhead," David says derisively. "You just gave the game away."

"C'mon Becks. Lift up your skirt and show us your tighty whities," Rosie taunts.

David flips the front of the kilt up to flash a pair of olive-green boxer briefs at us – the briefs that starred in the Guy Ritchie directed H&M underwear campaign. The same ad campaign I may or may not have watched on YouTube a few times. (Okay, quite a few times).

"My turn now," Mrs. Cope announces enthusiastically. "I'll pick 'Cock-socked Hunks' for $1000."

The minister, who I now realize is Alex Trebek from Jeopardy says, "This actor won a Scream Award for the '_Holy Shit! Scene Of The Year' _category in 2010 for a scene that was titled '_Twisted sex_'. You have thirty seconds; good luck, player."

Suddenly, an unseen church organist starts playing the Jeopardy thinking music.

"Who is Stephen Moyer?" Mrs. Cope asks, flapping her hands excitedly.

"You are correct," Alex Trebek announces. "And here's your prize."

We all turn to look at Stephen in expectation. With a smirk, he reaches up underneath the kilt, and after fiddling around for half a minute without revealing the goods, he pulls out a signed, beige colored cock sock and tosses it towards us. The cock sock hits Rosie in the face before falling to land on her ample bosom. Flailing like a woman in the middle of an arachnoleptic fit, she flicks the offending article away in much the same way one would get rid of a hairy spider.

The cock sock lands on her knee and she gags. "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Ew. That's just nasty."

I grimace, thankful that even though this is just a dream, it didn't land on me.

"Can I have it?" Mrs. Cope's voice asks from under the pew. In all the excitement, none of us noticed that she must have crawled under the pew we are seated on.

"Please, be my guest," Rosie says, shuddering in disgust as Mrs. Cope's hand reaches up to grab the cock sock.

"What are you going to do with it?" Ali asks, also looking grossed out.

"She's gonna put her weeeeed in there," Leah says, mimicking the stoner voice of Rob Schneider from the classic SNL skit. Leah, Ali, and Rosie all giggle.

"Wow. It's much smaller than I thought it would be," Mrs. Cope complains, tossing the cock sock back at Stephen. We all burst into laughter, and he glares at us.

"And why in the fuck are you laughing?" Stephen asks Alexander, smacking him upside the head. "At least I have a dick to put into a cock sock. You're as anatomically correct as Barbie's plastic boyfriend, Ken."

In response, Alexander's face turns beet-red.

Leah whimpers. "You mean there's nothing there but a plastic mound? Please, say it isn't so."

"I guess now we know the real reason he doesn't wear a cock sock," Mrs. Cope surmises.

Just as Alexander is about to lift his kilt to reveal all (or nothing) I hear Edward's voice. "Bella!"

I turn around on my seat to see Edward running up the aisle towards me.

"Edward!" I smile in relief and stand up to greet him. "What took you so long?"

I freeze halfway down the length of the aisle when I notice what he's wearing. He's in a flight suit, and it has an embroidered patch on the sleeve. The emblem on the patch depicts a wolf in sheep's clothing with the word 'INCOGNITO' underneath. It's the emblem for the British SAS 8 Flight Army Air Corps. Over his shoulder is a bag. It's the large, black bag that contains all the clothing and protective gear a soldier will need while on deployment.

In an attempt to change the dream to my own preference, I try to imagine Edward shirtless wearing only a kilt. Sadly, it doesn't work. Clearly, the stupid part of my brain is in control of this dream.

"Why are you in uniform?"

"We don't have much time. I'm about to head off to the Middle East," Edward replies. He offloads the heavy bag onto a nearby pew.

"But… what about the wedding? Our honeymoon?"

"Can we talk about it after the ceremony? Let's just get married before the minister leaves."

"Okay," I reply, and I grasp his hand in mine as we walk back up the aisle to take our place in front of the pulpit.

"Dearly beloved," Alex Trebek begins, "we are gathered here today to witness the union of Edward Anthony Cullen and Isabella Marie Swan in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate that is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. If anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

"Hold their piece," Leah says, snickering. "That's what she said."

"I don't get it," Mrs. Cope whines from under the pew.

"I'd like to hold Ewan's piece," Rosie confesses in what she thinks is a stage-whisper – but isn't.

Leah and Ali start giggling hysterically.

"Will you please shut up!" I hiss at my bridesmaids.

"I'll take '_Bella's ex-fiancés_' for $2000, Alex, and the answer is – '_Who is Eric_?'" a voice shouts, and I turn to see Eric striding down the aisle towards me.

I groan and palm my face. "Oh, brilliant, just… fucking brilliant. This nightmare is going from bad to worse by the minute."

"Fuck that!" Edward says angrily. "Stay here, Bella. I'll deal with this."

I nod and watch as Edward turns away from me and heads up the aisle. Knowing this is a nightmare I can't seem to wake up from, I half expect Edward and Eric to kiss and then gaily leave hand in hand as they skip off into the sunset, leaving me all alone.

"Remember, this is just a dream. This is just a dream. None of this is real," I chant under my breath.

To my surprise and delight, Edward grabs Eric by the throat and drags him to the exit. He knees Eric in the nuts, punches him in the face, and then tosses him out of the building through the large double doors.

**({'})** _That's so hot!_

I look around, but can't see her anywhere. "Libby? Where are you?"

**({'})** _Look down._

I do as she asks, and what I see makes me scream. Covering the lower half of my wedding dress is a huge, pink, puffy vagina. "What are you doing there?" I hiss.

**({'}) **_What? You didn't think I'd miss this, did you?_

"Go away!"

**({'}) **_Hell no! Edward needs to know what he's marrying._

Edward shakes his hand in pain as he strides towards the pulpit again. "Can we just speed things up a bit?" he asks.

Alex Trebek looks at his watch and shrugs. "Fine by me."

Edward looks around nervously as though he's expecting someone else to interrupt the proceedings. I know the exact moment he sees the front of my dress – and Libby.

"Erm… Bella?"

"Yes," I squeak.

"I hate to tell you this, but your vagina is showing."

"I know. This is a nightmare I'm having, so let's just ignore it and get on with the ceremony."

**({'})** _Humph. Just try to ignore me._

Edward and I both turn to face Alex.

"Edward will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, forsaking all others for so long as you both shall live?"

"I will," Edward replies, putting a gold band on my left ring finger. With its unusual flashing symbols, the ring looks suspiciously like one from the 'Lord Of The Rings' trilogy.

"And Bella," Trebek continues, "do you promise all the same vows I just mentioned to Edward, only substituting all the female words for male ones?"

**({'})** _You bet your ass!_

"Shut up!" Alex Trebek looks at me in confusion. "Sorry, I didn't mean you. Yes. Yes, I will promise all the same things to Edward." I pick up the ring and slide it onto Edward's finger. It gets stuck halfway down his ring finger and won't budge. I decide to place it on his pinky finger instead. With the ring in place, we turn to look at the minister again.

"We who have come here today have heard the willingness of Edward and Bella to be joined in marriage. In our presence, they have declared their love and commitment to each other. They have given and received a ring as a symbol of their promises. Therefore, by the power vested in me by the state of unconsciousness, I declare them husband and wife. For the daily double, you may now kiss your bride."

Puckering up, I wait for Edward's kiss… and then I sneeze, right in his face.

"Bless you," Edward says, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his face.

"Sorry. Let's try that again," I say with a slight sniffle.

"Okay." Edward leans in for another attempt.

"_Achoo_. Sorry."

"Never mind."

"_Achoo_. Shit." I must be coming down with a cold or something. Edward hands me the handkerchief, and I blow my nose. The sound echoes loudly around the church. The acoustics in this place must be really amazing.

Taking my face in his palms, Edward stares at me intently and squeezes my nostrils so I can't breathe through my nose. He moves in to kiss me, but rather than kiss my lips, he sticks his tongue in my ear. I giggle at the odd sensation.

"Meow," he says, and then he starts to purr and rub his face against my neck.

"Edward?"

"Meow."

"Hey, what the fuck?" The places where Edward touched and licked start to burn like venom on my skin. "Edward? Stop licking me. _Achoo._"

On opening my eye – the one eye that can pry open – I'm met by a pair of green eyes, and they aren't Edward's.

"Oh, shit," I wheeze, my voice sounding like a geriatric pack-a-day smoker. I attempt to rub at my insanely itchy eyes in an attempt to verify that there is indeed a big, black cat sitting on my chest, and from the looks of it, it's Mr. Whiskers, Shelly Cope's tom cat. He's got me trapped beneath the quilt in Edward's old bedroom in the Cullen's home.

"Meow." Before I can stop him, Mr. Whiskers leans in to bunt affectionately against my forehead.

"How the fuck did you get in here? _Achoo_. Shit! Shoo!"

I first learned of my allergy to cats within days of Eric moving in with me. His Chinchilla cat, Monty, caused me a raft of symptoms such as watering, itchy eyes, wheezing coughs, hives, and a constantly itchy throat. After a trip to the doctor, I was advised that I was allergic to cat saliva and dander – a very common allergy. I gave Eric an ultimatum – it was either the cat or me. Subsequently, Monty went to live with Eric's friend (and later fuck-buddy) Alistair.

"Shoo, cat!" I start wiggling my body beneath the quilt, in an attempt to destabilize the cat so he'll get off me. Taking the hint, Mr. Whiskers stands and arches. He then turns around to present me with a charming view of his butt hole. Just when I think he's going to step off me, he sits down on my pelvis. "Go away, tuna breath!"

Ignoring me completely, Mr. Whiskers thrusts a leg in the air and starts to lick his balls, probably because he can.

My face feels as if it's on fire. Tired of playing nice with the cat – from beneath the quilt I manage to get my hands under the cat's butt – and I launch the arrogant fur ball off the bed. With a hiss and baleful glare over his shoulder, Mr. Whiskers exits via the open bedroom window as I race to the bathroom.

"Arrrrghhhhhhhhh!" I scream, when I see my reflection in the mirror.

"Bella?" I can hear my mom's voice.

"Mom? Help me!"

"Bella?"

I'm shaking. In the mirror, I can see my face is covered in angry-red welts where Mr. Whiskers rubbed against me. My nose is running, and my eyes are red – in fact, one of them is swollen shut.

"Oh, God, no!" There's no way I can get married today – not when I've got a face like Quasimodo.

"Bella!"

"Mom, I look hideous. I can't let Edward see me like this! My wedding day is ruined!"

-oo0oo-

_**Saturday, 6th July - 9:50am – The Cullen Home – Boston Harbor**_**.**

"Bella! Bella wake up! Now! It's time to get ready!"

"Wha-? Huh?" Struggling to swim to the surface of consciousness, I open my eyelids, and I'm instantly greeted by my mom who is insistently tapping me on the forehead.

"It's about time, Sleepy Head; I didn't think you were ever going to wake up." Mom sweeps a wayward lock of hair off my forehead and smiles at me warmly. When she smiles, the skin around her pale-blue eyes crinkles and a small dimple appears on her left cheek.

I sit up and embrace my mom in a bone-crunching hug, relieved to have escaped from yet another wedding-related nightmare. A huge gust of breath escapes my lungs, and I laugh in relief. "Thanks for waking me. I was in the middle of a horrible nightmare."

Mom chuckles and hugs me in return. "I half expected you to be up at the crack of dawn from the anticipation of getting married, but you've slept the morning away. I blocked your nose and even gave you a wet willy, and even then you wouldn't wake up."

"Ew, Mom!" I protest, and I push her away from me so I can reach up to wipe at my ear."

"Just kidding. My finger was dry." She grins and rolls her eyes at me.

I flop back down to the mattress and yawn. Thanks to my bizarre dreams, I'm tired and feel utterly drained of energy. "Mom?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Was I dropped on my head a lot as a baby?"

I expect her to laugh; instead, Mom pauses to consider my unexpected question. "I guess it depends on your definition of _a lot_."

"Mom!"

She finally chuckles. "You weren't dropped on your head, per se, but you were incredibly clumsy as a kid, and you hit your head quite a few times. At age two, you got your first pair of black eyes when you were running without watching where you were going and bumped the bridge of your nose right on the edge of the dining table. When you were five, you jumped out of a tree, broke your arm, and knocked out both of your top front teeth. You knocked yourself out cold when you were six-"

"Okay, okay; I think I get the picture." I stifle another yawn. "Hey, what's the time, anyway?"

"It's nearly ten. As I said, I've been trying to wake you for the last five minutes. I take it you didn't sleep too well after last night's antics?"

"What?"

"From what I've been told, it seems you and Edward got up to some mischief." Mom raises an eyebrow at me in question.

"Someone in this house has a big, fat mouth," I complain with a roll of my eyes. Mom laughs. "I couldn't get to sleep, so on your suggestion, I took some Valium; too much apparently."

A small V appears between Mom's brows as they furrow with concern. "How much did you take and when?"

"Ten milligrams – somewhere between one and two this morning."

Mom shakes her head. "Far out. No wonder you slept like the dead all morning. Normally, I only take half a pill." A knock at the door interrupts our conversation.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Esme calls out.

My three bridesmaids and Esme file into the room. Rose is carrying a tray piled high with assorted breakfast pastries while the others hold cups of steaming hot coffee.

"Wow. I didn't expect breakfast in bed," I say in surprise and turn around to rearrange the pillows so I can sit propped against the brass bedhead.

"Yeah, well we got hungry waiting for you," Leah complains. "So we decided if Mohammed wouldn't come to the mountain, then the mountain must come to Mohammed. Here's your coffee."

"Thanks." Gratefully, I take the cup from Leah and place it on the nightstand to cool. I pick up a pastry from the tray as the women all find a place to sit on the large bed. Before I can take a bite, I have to stifle a yawn and shake my head to clear the lingering fogginess.

"My God, how can you still be tired? You've been sleeping for ages," Ali says.

"Valium. I had trouble getting off to sleep last night, so I took one of Mom's sleeping tablets." I yawn again.

"Nice dark circles under your eyes, Swan. You'd make a panda jealous with those. I'm gonna have my work cut out making you look good today." Leah sighs.

"I have faith you can perform miracles, oh great one."

"Just be grateful she doesn't have any hickeys," Esme says, chuckling.

While we eat our late breakfast, Esme fills everyone in on last night's drama, and informs me that for now, Clara the gun toting nun is still alive and kicking, and is about to undergo a procedure to implant a small defibrillating device in her chest. Throughout the conversation, I keep yawning, and my eyes occasionally droop. When the doorbell rings, Mom and Esme exit the room, taking away the empty plates and cups, leaving me in the company of my three bridesmaids.

"I think she's gonna need more than coffee to wake up," Rose says with concern, taking my half-eaten chocolate-filled croissant out of one hand. Ali reaches out and takes the almost-empty cup of coffee that's threatening to spill onto the bedding from my other hand.

"Yeah, I agree," I say, stifling another yawn. "Just let me have a li'l nap first. All I need is one more hour." I slink down underneath the quilt and pull a pillow over my head.

"Bellaaaaaa!" Ali screeches in protest.

"Oh, no you don't." Rudely, Leah steals the pillow from me while Rose pulls the quilt off my body. "Come on; let's get you into the shower."

"Noooooo," I whine pathetically, and I curl into a fetal position.

"Bella, we don't have much time," Ali scolds. "We need to leave in under an hour to make our appointment at the salon."

"But I'm so tired." Against my body's wishes, my three bridesmaids haul me off the bed. Slinging my arms over their shoulders, Rose and Leah struggle to shuffle-walk me towards the bathroom.

Trailing behind us, Ali snickers. "Watching you three is like watching a scene from '_Weekend At Bernies_'."

Even though I'm still wearing my chemise, Rose and Leah unceremoniously dump me on the shower floor, and Ali turns on the water.

I scream in shock when the cold water hits me. They must have turned off the temperature presets.

Sadistic, evil wenches.

"Okay, okay, bitches; I'm awake!" I sputter, and my three bridesmaids turn and walk out.

-oo0oo-

**_Boston Harbor Marina – 4.00pm._**

"Oh, don't you all look absolutely stunning! The boys are gonna die when they see you wearing that," Athena Kavanagh says jokingly as we approach _La Serenità. _

"I know! Don't we look faaaaaaabulous?" I joke in return, doing a silly curtsy.

Once the necessary photos had been taken back at the house, we quickly changed into our regular clothes, and the photographer left along with Mom, Esme, and Sue to meet with the guys at Gallagher Cove for their own photo session.

During yesterday's rehearsal, my bridesmaids and I discovered that walking from the Cullen's home to the marina in our wedding attire was a bit challenging. In kitten heels, I had to hitch my dress and petticoats up to my knees to prevent the hem and train of the skirt from dragging through the dirt. Then, we also surmised it would be too difficult to board the boat, descend the companionway ladder, and freely maneuver around the cabin, especially if I needed to use the head. As a group, we decided to forgo wearing our gowns for the sake of comfort until we near the entrance to the cove. So for now, I'm slumming it in an old pair of denim shorts, a button-fronted blouse, and flip-flops. My bridesmaids are similarly dressed in casual summer clothing.

"Alec!" Athena yells, "Come and help the girls get on board." From the open companionway hatch, I can hear Alec moving about in the cabin. "Maybe you should all pass me your flowers," she suggests, "and Alec can take your garment bags."

"Good thinking," I agree, and we all pass our bouquets to her.

"Wow, these roses smell wonderful," Athena says enthusiastically. She buries her nose into one of the bridesmaid's bouquets and takes in a deep breath. "They smell like… something spicy, and the colors are exquisite. These dark purple ones; I've never seen anything like them before. Are they real or dyed?"

"They're 100% real," I assure her. "The dark ones that smell like cloves are the Ebb Tide roses and the pale lavender ones are called Sterling Silver."

"Hello, ladies!" Alec's face appears at the companionway. His excited smile beams at us as he exits the cabin and moves toward us. Standing on the ama, he holds his arms outstretched and takes the three garment bags from Ali, Rosie, and Leah. When Ali places a silver umbrella on top of the pile, he looks at her oddly, as anyone in their right mind would do.

The umbrella is actually a photography umbrella, and it's meant for light control rather than protection from the rain. Ali insists it was the only one she could find that comes close to matching the color of the bridesmaid's dresses.

"Are you expecting rain or taking pictures?" he asks.

"I had a dream," she replies haughtily. "I'm certain it's going to rain."

"Ooookay then..." The expression on Alec's face is priceless, and he looks to me as if to say, "_Is she for real?_" I just shrug my shoulders in response. As predicted, today's weather is warm and perfect.

Alec turns to follow Athena, who has already entered the cabin and is waiting below for the garment bags and umbrella to be passed down to her. Alec returns and reaches out to take the garment bag my Dad is cradling in his arms; the one containing my wedding gown and veil.

With Dad's help, we step across, one after the other, from the pier to the ama to the trampoline until we are all safely standing in the cockpit.

"You all look stunning," Alec announces, thoughtfully placing greeting kisses on the backs of my bridesmaids' hands. Although we are dressed casually, we're in full wedding make-up, and my bridesmaids are wearing dainty wreaths of cherry blossoms in their hair. My own hair, currently free from the veil, has been lacquered with enough hairspray to enable it to deflect speeding bullets.

As the girls make their way inside the cabin, I hear Rosie muttering something about needing her own dose of Valium in order to stop herself from freaking out. It's her first time sailing, and she's already taken something in case of nausea, partly because she still suffers from regular bouts of morning sickness, but also because she wants to avoid sea-sickness as she intends to read to distract herself during the trip.

"Thanks so much for skippering today, Alec." I give him a hug.

"It's my absolute honor, dear," he says giving me a gentle squeeze before releasing me to speak to Dad. "Hey, Charlie. You're lookin' sharp." Dad and Alec shake hands in greeting. Dad really does look great in his midnight-blue suit; very distinguished.

"Thanks, Alec. Need some help launching off?"

Alec shakes his head. "Athena and I have it all under control. Why don't you head into the cabin and relax? There's food and champagne set up in there. For Rosalie, there's juice or soda, and a few beers for you."

"Aww, that's so thoughtful of you guys; you didn't have to go to that much trouble." I'm touched at the effort they've gone to in order to help make our wedding day perfect.

"Athena thought it would be nice to have some pre-wedding drinks to help calm the jitters," he jokes.

"Excellent." Dad rubs his hands in anticipation and heads for the ladder. "You comin', Bells?"

"I'll be down in a minute; you go on ahead and open the champagne."

Dad nods and enters the cabin.

"Is the wind going to hold up?" I ask.

Alec looks up at the mast. "Not a cloud in the sky, light north airs, and waves barely to one foot. I predict we'll be going at about five knots most of the way. Even if I have to resort to using the outboard to get us there, we'll make it on time; I guarantee it."

"When we get to the mouth of the cove, can you let us know so we can change into our dresses?"

'Will do." He smiles.

I take a seat in the cockpit opposite Athena, and I watch as Alec starts the outboard and maneuvers La Serenità out of Boston Harbor Marina. Within seconds of the sails being hoisted, we catch the wind, and Alec walks back to the helm seat to take the tiller. Athena and I then head down the companionway ladder to join in with the others as we sail to Gallagher Cove at a leisurely clip.

-oo0oo-

_**One hour later…**_

"This book is a load of bollocks!" Rosie announces loudly, shaking her head in disgust. She closes the protective case on her Kindle and slams it onto the saloon table we're sitting around.

"What were you reading?" Athena asks, dipping a cracker into the bowl and scooping out the last remains of hummus.

"'Sixty-Nine Ways To Sunday'."

"Never heard of that one. What's it about?"

"I heard it's mommy porn, and that it was written by a man," Leah says around a mouthful of brie and water cracker.

"No one knows if the books are written by a man or a woman because the writer uses a nom de plume," Ali corrects.

"If anything, I suspect it was written by a virgin. I can't believe they actually published such rubbish – and even worse – that I stupidly forked over money for all three books! Have you read them, Bella?" Rosie asks.

Widely lambasted on most book review sites for its excessive use of purple prose and terrible plot, the erotic trilogy seemed to be selling by the truckload, but they didn't interest me in the slightest.

I swallow down the last mouthful of champagne before answering. "No, I haven't; but that's because I actually have some standards."

"Did you hear they're going to make a Sixty-Nine Ways movie?" Leah asks, momentarily turning her head towards the TV where the game is on with the sound muted. "They announced it on E News the other night."

"You're kidding…" The incredulous expression on Rosie's face is hilarious as Leah turns back and shakes her head to confirm she's not joking.

"I warned you it was a big load of hype, but did you listen to me?" Ali asks in a know-it-all tone without looking up from her phone. She's playing level 347 of Candy Crush.

Bitch.

I'm still stuck on level 79.

"What's wrong with these books, exactly?" Athena asks Rosie.

"The writing is just appallingly amateurish. The characters are so shallow, and there's hardly any story to it. All they ever seem to do is boink like rabbits."

Dad sputters on his mouthful of beer, and Leah, Ali, and I snicker. When she makes her appearance, pregnant Rosalie sans her verbal filter is entertaining to watch. Oblivious to my Dad's proximity and obvious discomfort, she continues to rant.

"… not to mention the plot holes that are wide enough to drive a lorry through. One minute, Astrid, the female protagonist, is a 21-year-old innocent virgin who's never been kissed, and in the next minute, she's getting drilled all day and all night long, in every imaginable position and hole by Logan, who is a controlling billionaire douchebag with mommy issues whose only redeeming feature is that he's devastatingly handsome and has a huge willy."

"Aaaaaand I think that's my cue to leave." Dad passes me the TV remote and swiftly moves out from his position at the saloon table. Doubling back, he grabs his bottle of beer and heads to the ladder.

"…then in every single sex scene, Logan commands Astrid to come, and instantly she has multiple squirting orgasms on demand; like that's even remotely realistic."

"Oh, Christ," Dad says, shaking his head in disbelief. Mumbling under his breath, he ascends the ladder to make his escape. "Jesus. Is that the shit Suzy's been reading?"

Leah giggles. "Yeah, no way that would ever happen. Hell! If Jake started commanding me to come during sex, I'd bust a gut. He even struggles to get our dog to take his command to 'come' seriously while putting him out of the house at the end of the night."

We all giggle at the thought.

"The whole book was just so preposterous," Rosie continues. "Logan's supposed to be in his late-thirties, but somehow he's got the stamina of a 17-year-old. Within two minutes of coming inside her mouth, he's hard as steel and up in her business, making Astrid scream his name again and again and again... and again. And don't get me started on the constant talking during sex. I mean if Emmett even said half the shit Logan says to Astrid while going at it, I'd have to tell him to shut up because he'd totally make me lose focus on my Gerard Butler fantasy."

At that revelation, we all burst into gales of laughter.

"Seriously, what was that with the name screaming thing?" Ali asks. "If I called out Jazzy's name during sex, he'd be like, 'What? What did I do wrong?'" We all laugh again. "I'm certain 'Sixty-nine ways' was written by a woman. I mean, what man on God's green Earth refers to a woman's cooch as her 'core' and her clitoris as her 'bundle of nerves'?"

"I know, right? And if I have to read about Logan referring to her eyes as 'aquamarine orbs' again, I will scoop out my own blue orbs with a rusty spoon to save myself the agony. Ugh. I just wish I hadn't wasted my money by buying all three books at once," Rosie grumbles.

"At least you have the good sense to stop reading after the first book. Stupidly, I read all three. I kept thinking to myself that the writing would get better, but it didn't."

"We're nearing the mouth of the cove, girls," Dad announces, ducking his head inside the cabin.

"Okay, thanks Dad. Can you close the hatch, please?"

"Show time!" Ali announces excitedly, bouncing in her seat once the hatch has been closed.

Above, I hear the sound of Alec's footfalls as he moves to drop the sails. We all stand up and attempt to find a place to get ready, grabbing our garment bags that have been hanging from the handles of the overhead cabinets. Rosie and I head for the forward berth to change while Leah and Ali stay and start to undress in the saloon. Athena moves to stand in the galley, and she offers to take care of our flowers. We've had the stems sitting within glasses of water to keep them fresh.

"It'd probably be wise to use the bathroom one more time before we get into our dresses," I call out to everyone as Rosie fastens the hook and eye closures of my strapless, backless torsolette to a tighter fit. The single glass of champagne I drank earlier has gone straight to my bladder, and I'm already dreading when I inevitably have to go to the bathroom in my wedding dress.

"Pregnant ladies first!" Rosie dashes past me to get to the bathroom before anyone else can.

My plans to relieve myself before getting laced into my dress (which will further reduce my bladder size) are momentarily foiled, so I sit on the side of the bed to pull on my stockings. The pre-wedding nerves have finally started to kick in, and I fumble with shaky hands as I try to attach the suspender fasteners at the back of my thighs. After a few minutes, Rosie returns, but I'm informed there is now a line to go to the head. I stay put and help Rosie into her dress, so she doesn't ruin her hair or makeup.

Once again, wearing her platinum, floor-length dress, Rosie looks stunning. The satin and chiffon fabric drapes her figure beautifully, and the one-shouldered, sleeveless design, coupled with the cherry-blossom hair wreath, makes me think of an ancient Greek or Roman goddess.

"It's all yours," Leah announces, poking her head into the room. She's also dressed and carrying her silver, kitten-heeled sandals in one hand and the bouquet of mixed purple roses and baby's breath in the other.

I smile at seeing her. "Okay, thanks."

Once I've checked Rosie's hair wreath is secure, I walk towards the head with my make-up bag and lock myself inside.

-oo0oo-

After washing my hands, applying more deodorant and perfume, and giving my hair and make-up a quick touch-up, I turn to open the door.

"What the-"

I flick the latch to the lock, but it won't budge. Without ruining my manicure, I try to wiggle the latch back and forth, but it's stuck fast. I grab the door handle and try pulling it up and down a few times while turning the latch, but it's not moving.

"No. No. No, no, no. Don't do this to me now," I mutter under my breath as mild panic starts to set in.

**({'}) **_What's wrong? _

Using the flat of my palm, I bang against the door. "Help!"

Through the closed door, I hear the girls laughing at me.

"Very funny, Bella," Ali quips. "Now come out and put your dress on; we're nearing the dock."

"Yeah, you're not supposed to pull 'an Ali' now. You're meant to wait to get the cold feet on your wedding night," Leah jokes.

"Shut up," Ali's voice snaps.

"Ow. Was it really necessary to slap me?"

"I'm not trying to be funny, guys. Seriously, I can't get out." I jiggle the handle again and pound upon the door with my fist.

**({'})** _Get us out of here!_

"I don't think she's joking," Athena, the voice of wisdom, says from the other side of the door. The handle wiggles in my grasp, and I realize Athena must be pulling on it too.

"Have you tried flicking the latch?" Ali asks.

"Oh, of course! Duh, why didn't I think of that?" I reply sarcastically. "Can someone please get Dad or Alec?"

After a minute, the handle wiggles again. "Bella?" Dad asks.

"Dad! There's something wrong with the door; I can't get out."

"Have you tried flicking the latch?" he asks.

I roll my eyes in frustration. "How stupid do you think I am?" Before he can answer that particular question, I implore, "Someone needs to unscrew the door handle. In the cabinet, under the saloon table, there's a small tool box. I think there may be a rechargeable screw gun in there. Can you check?"

"Okay."

After another minute, there is a knock. "Bella?"

"Did you find the tool box and the screw gun?"

"Yeah, I found it, but the rechargeable battery pack is dead. This door handle has Phillips-head screws, but there aren't any Phillips-head screwdrivers in the tool box – only a couple of slotted ones. I'll have to see if I can make do."

"Okay." Resigned, I take a seat on the closed lid of the toilet and wait.

I hear the sound of metal scraping on metal and a grunt or two from Dad. "That's one," he says triumphantly, after what seems like forever, and I start to feel hopeful of being released from my little prison in time to get married. "Five more to go."

"Five!" I exclaim.

A bead of sweat starts to trickle down the side of my neck. It's getting rather warm in here, so I open the small porthole near the ceiling to let in some fresh air. That's when I hear voices outside over the sound of the slowing outboard motor, and I realize we must be approaching the dock.

"Dad, you need to hurry," I urge.

"Believe me Bella, I'm trying my hardest." There is a thud against the door, and something falls to the floor with a clatter. "Arggghh, shit, damn."

"Charlie!" Athena cries out.

"What's wrong?" I call out in alarm, and I smack my hand against the door to get someone's attention.

"Here. Take this and wrap it around your hand," Leah's voice says shakily.

"Stay back, ladies," Dad commands, "I don't want to get blood all over your pretty dresses."

"Blood!? DAD!" I can hear a commotion going on in the cabin, but no one is telling me anything. I bang my fist against the door repeatedly until someone answers me.

"Bella?" Leah says in a tone I know is intended to keep me calm. "Not to worry you, but your dad just had a bit of an accident."

"What did he do?"

"He's sliced his hand with the screwdriver through the skin between his thumb and forefinger. It's um… bleeding quite a bit. Is there a first-aid kit in here?"

"Look in the cabinet under the sink."

"Found it," she calls out. "Charlie, I think you'd better sit down. You don't look too good. Ali – can you let Alec know what's happened? I think this is going to take more than a simple bandage."

"Oh no." Feeling anxious for my dad, I plunk my ass down heavily on the lid of the toilet, reconciled to the fact I'll be stuck in the head for a while longer. Through the small porthole above, I can hear Ali speaking to Alec, and she's asking if there might be any doctors or nurses among the wedding guests. Alec mentions Jeff, one of the guys from the Breaking Dawn crew, is a General Practitioner who might be able to help. Immediately, I stand on the lid of the toilet and yell. "Alec!"

"Yeah, Bella?" he replies. He moves closer to the porthole to speak with me.

"One of my colleagues, Doctor Gerandy, should be here along with his partner, Doctor Jean Snow. I believe she's a Plastic Surgeon. Can you please ask if Jean is here? I think she'd be the most qualified to examine Dad's hand. Also, can you get Edward for me? He might know how to get me out of here."

"Okay."

Standing in front of the mirror, I check to see if my make-up is starting to melt, and I pull the top of my torsolette away from my body so I can run a damp wash cloth across my boobs and around the back of my neck to cool down a bit.

**({'}) **_This could only happen to you, ya know…_

Shut up.

**({'}) **_I've got a bad feeling about this._

Why?

**({'})**_** '**__Cause this kind of reminds me of that scene in Star Wars when Luke, Leia, Han Solo, and Chewie were in the trash compactor._

How so?

**({'})**_ I believe the walls are starting to close in._

Shut up. They are not!

**({'}) **_No, really… I mean it! I swear that wall just moved about an inch._

You're becoming paranoid.

"Bella?" The voice I've wanted to hear all day speaks to me from the other side of the door as the handle rattles.

**({'}) **_Eddie!_

"Edward! Oh, thank God!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine; just starting to get a little stir crazy in here. How is my dad? Is there a doctor with him?"

"Yeah, he's getting checked out now. They've taken him into Connor's house, and your colleague is collecting an advanced first-aid kit from his car. His partner said if the wound isn't too complicated, and he hasn't cut through the median nerve, she'll stitch him up here instead of carting him off to the hospital."

"Okay. That's good, I suppose. Are you able to get me out of here, or should we just call the celebrant over and start exchanging vows and rings through the porthole?"

He laughs. "Of course I can get you out. Just gimme a sec." Through the door, I hear Edward muttering as he works. "What on Earth was he doing?"

"What's wrong?" Rosie asks.

"I'm just wondering why Charlie was trying to use a flat-head screwdriver tip instead of one of the Phillips-heads. No wonder he hurt himself."

"Charlie said the battery for the screw gun with the Phillips-head was flat, and there weren't any Phillips-head screwdrivers in the tool box," Leah explains.

Edward's sighs and I can hear his frustration. "The screwdrivers have reversible tips – flat-heads on one end and Phillips-heads on the other. If he'd pulled the tip out and turned it around, he would've had a better chance at freeing her, unscathed."

I huff at the stupidity of the situation.

In less than five minutes, Edward has removed all the screws, and the door handle falls off. Instantly the door opens, and I'm met by his burning green gaze.

**({'}) **_Holy… *gargle*_

Libby is drooling, and I don't blame her one little bit.

Edward '_sex-in-a-black-wool-satin-trimmed-tuxedo_' Cullen is drool-worthy. I mean, I've seen him in plenty of suits before, but this one is like _whoa_! The online picture he showed me months ago didn't do the suit justice. Actually seeing him wearing it deserves its own theme music.

**({'}) **_Edward done goooooood._

I'm so glad I entrusted Edward to find his own wedding outfit. My only stipulations were that it should co-ordinate in some way with the color of the bridesmaid dresses and absolutely no bow ties. The platinum colored vest and matching tie, worn in a half-Windsor knot, makes him look elegant, sleek, and dangerously hot. I honestly couldn't have picked anything better.

"Good job, Cullen. She's free. You can leave now," Leah says, interrupting my ogling.

The screwdriver falls out of Edward's hand as he takes a step towards me, and that's when I remember where I am, why I'm here, and what I'm wearing – which isn't terribly much – and what day it is.

"Close your eyes, Edward, or at least turn around. Don't look at me, it's bad luck," I exclaim in a panic.

"Yeah, bye bye, Ed," Ali says.

I swear I hear him emit a low, sexy growl.

"Hey!" Rosie protests. "You can't go in there. No!" She's attempting to pull Edward away by his shoulders, but he shrugs her off. "Edward…" she warns.

Undeterred, Edward grips my hips, forcing me to back up. He steps into the head with me and kicks the door closed behind him. The door opens again - just an inch or two, but it hits Edward on the back of his shoulder. He leans back against the door to prevent my bridesmaids from barging in and taking him away.

"I'm going to check on Charlie and bring him back," Rosie announces. "If they start having sex in there, break the door down."

Someone bangs on the door.

"Back off, harpies, and give me a minute here with Bella," Edward shouts.

"I can't say I ever took you for a minute man," Leah says jokingly from the other side of the door.

"Well, with Jake as a husband, you'd know all about that," Ali teases. "Ow! What the hell? Was it really necessary to hit me, Leah?"

"You started it! You hit me before."

"Yeah, but I didn't hit you on the boob!"

As my bridesmaids bicker among themselves, Edward smirks. "So, this is a familiar scenario," he says, reminding me of Wednesday evening's post-ice cream escapades.

"You should get out of here! You know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding ceremony."

With a devilish glint in his eyes, he shakes his head. "I Googled that shit this morning, and it's only considered bad luck if I see you in your wedding dress before the ceremony. Fortunately, for me, I happen to notice you aren't wearing one, or much of anything, really." He wiggles his eyebrows, making me giggle.

"How very observant of you. It's lucky you have such keen eyesight."

Smiling wickedly, he traces his forefinger across the top edge of the torsolette, barely touching my skin. Pausing midway, he dips his finger between my boobs and uses the garment to pull me forward. He inhales deeply and nuzzles against my neck. "Right now, I'm feeling very lucky," he says in a seductive voice. "Besides; after what just happened with Charlie's hand, what else could possibly go wrong?"

"Shhhhhh!" I admonish as he starts to kiss my neck. "Don't tempt the fates. You could get struck by lightning and die. Then I'd have to go back to trying my luck on Eharmony."

He stops kissing my neck and pulls back to look at me. "You signed up for Eharmony?"

"No, Alice signed me up for Eharmony, but I had to deal with the aftermath. Then I got banned."

"Really? What for?"

"Apparently some of the men who looked like ex-felons didn't appreciate the brutal honesty in my replies, so they reported me."

"Why, what did you say?"

"I believe I said something along the lines of, 'No way in hell; unless maybe there was a zombie apocalypse, and we were tasked with repopulating the West Coast, and even then, there would have to be paper bags.'"

He laughs and shakes his head at me. Just as Edward leans in, to ruin my lipstick and panties simultaneously, we are jolted out of the moment by the sound of my dad's voice and the rattling door. "Open this door, Cullen, or I'll have you arrested."

"On what charge?" Edward asks, completely unfazed by my father. Dad threatens to have Edward arrested almost every week. It's become a game between the two of them.

"False imprisonment. Corruption of a minor…"

"You do realize Bella's in here willingly and over the age of thirty. She's not a minor; hasn't been for quite some time, in fact."

Dad chuckles and I give Edward the '_you'll-pay-for-that-ageist-remark-later_' glare.

"To me she'll always be my little girl, so you'd better haul out of there quick-smart or else, boy."

"Or else what? Are you gonna use your special handcuffs on me? I told you before, Chief, purple's not really my color."

I burst into a fit of giggles as I hear Dad's muffled reply, "That was meant to be a secret between you and me, you smart-ass little shit."

"I'm sorry, Charlie, but Bella and I have a very open and honest relationship… plus she kind of forced the truth out of me."

Dad laughs again. "In that case, I'll guess I'll just shoot your other ass cheek and finish off what the crazy nun started last night."

"Okay, fine. I'm leaving," Edward huffs. "See you soon," he says giving me a playful wink and a pat on the ass. He casts one more longing gaze taking in the sight of me in my lingerie and sighs.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I quip.

"Don't mind if I do." Edward pats his hands over his pockets. "Mmm. Damn. Mum's got my phone. Can you wait here for a minute while I get it? Or should I just call the photographer in here?"

"As if. Speaking of photographers, we're keeping everyone waiting. Get out and let me get into my dress before I change my mind about marrying you."

He grins cheekily and moves in to embrace me again. Unfortunately, moving his back away from the door allows Dad enough room to get his arm through. He manages to grasp the collar of Edward's white dress shirt and pulls him backwards out of the head.

The scene is laughable as my Dad single-handedly perp-walks Edward towards the ladder and out of the cabin.

-oo0oo-

"I Edward, take you Isabella to be my wife, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward, for as long as we both shall live."

All that's happened today before this moment is now a blur. Everything except the person standing before me has faded into the background. I know that in days to come the finer details will return to me, but right now none of it matters. The one and only thing that matters now is that Edward is here. He's placing a platinum and diamond band on my left ring finger and proclaiming his love for me to the whole world.

"I Edward, give you Isabella, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you."

He's my best friend, my lover, my confidant, my future, my forever; my Edward.

"By the power vested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you Edward, and you Isabella to be husband and wife. Edward, you may now kiss your bride."

Edward lifts my veil, and for the first time, but certainly not the last time, I'm kissed by my husband.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Special thanks go to Elisha for allowing me to integrate her hilarious facebook status into this chapter regarding online dating sites and the zombie apocalypse.**

**Remove brackets for the following links to work.**

**Photo album of this chapter including a picture of the nightmare dress featuring Libby on the front (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Chapter151  
><strong>  
><strong>Hunter S. Thompson quote was from – Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. (http)(:)(/bit.)ly/took_too_much**

**SNL Rob Schneider weed skit – (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/snl-skit**

**David Beckham's H&M underwear commercial (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/DavidB_HandM  
><strong>  
><strong>Stephen Moyer accepts the 2010 Scream Award (I love his accent) (http)(:)(/bit.)ly/2010_ScreamAward**


	152. Chapter 152

**_Gallagher Cove – 6_****_th_****_ July – 9.00pm._**

"Arrgh! This is humiliating. I can't do this!"

"Just imagine you're somewhere else, and that it's completely normal," Ali says not-so-helpfully.

"In what universe would it be completely normal to do _this_ surrounded by people you know?" I ask.

"Ancient Rome?"

Although it feels as if my kidneys are floating somewhere near my earlobes, I have a severe case of performance anxiety. Why did no one advise me that this wedding dress would require the assistance of not one, not two, but _three_ people in order to go to the bathroom?

"Is there something else we can do to help?" Mom inquires.

"Maybe you should sing to me."

"Sing?!" Rosie exclaims in incredulity.

"Okay, what do you want us to sing?" Ali asks. Along with Rosie, she is helping to hold up the back of my dress while Mom is responsible for the front.

"I don't know; sing anything. Just do it loud enough that you won't have to listen to me pee. And don't look at me either!"

Rosie whispers to Ali, who in turn, whispers to Mom. They all giggle, and on the count of three, start to sway and sing.

_When you're weary, feeling small  
>When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all<br>I'm on your side when times get rough  
>And friends just can't be found<em>

_Like a __**bride**__ over troubled water  
>I will lay me down<br>Like a __**bride**__ over troubled water  
>I will lay me down.<em>

They burst into laughter, and I shake my head at their antics as they continue to sing. Thankfully, though, it at least has the desired effect, and I can almost hear my aching bladder sigh in relief.

In all seriousness, Mom holds up the roll of paper. "Scrunch or fold?"

"Thanks, but I think I can at least wipe my own butt," I huff, reaching for the paper.

With some difficulty, I manage to take care of necessities, and then the girls help me to stand and rearrange my petticoats and the skirt.

"I should have gone with a less foofy dress," I complain while washing my hands. "Men have it so easy. They just have to turn up in a tux."

"But you look gorgeous in this dress. Edward hasn't been able to take his eyes off you all night," Ali says.

**({'})** _Or his hands…_ _Can we leave for the honeymoon now?_

"I can't wait to get out of this dress. I'm not going to drink for the rest of the evening 'cause I swear I'm never ever doing _that_ again. Going to the bathroom surrounded by the three of you is just downright uncomfortable."

"Not much longer to go and then you and Edward can leave," Mom says reassuringly although somewhat naively. Out of all the weddings I've attended in the last year, none have finished before midnight. The Cullens, Swans, McCartys, Hales, and Blacks really love to party.

As we leave the bathroom, we run into Leah, who's looking rather flustered and walking with a limp.

In concern, I ask, "Are you okay? What's wrong with your foot?"

Leah shakes her head and palms her flaming cheeks. "Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Why?" Ali asks.

"I was sitting at the table opposite Jake, and I thought I'd try to get his attention by slipping off my shoe and sensually stroking my foot up and down the side of his calf..."

"And?" Ali and I query in unison.

"Jake got up and left the table."

I'm confused. "Why is that embarrassing?"

"Because even though he left, the leg I was rubbing against was still there!"

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"So whose leg were you actually foot-fondling?" Rosie asks.

"Emmett's," she whispers, and then she blushes again. "Emmett was sitting next to Jake. At first, I wondered why he hadn't said anything, but then I realized it was his artificial leg. I kind of freaked out and ran away, and my shoe is still under the table. I'm so sorry, Rosie. I had no idea it was him."

We all snicker at her revelation.

Calming down, Rosie is the first to speak. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure if Emmett had any idea of what was going on, he would see the funny side. We've had some pretty weird conversations with strangers about his leg."

"Really?"

"We," Rosie says, pointing to me and then at her own chest, "were at a Cullen-McCarty Charters business dinner, celebrating with drinks after the contract signing with that big logging company in Hoquiam. The conversation eventually turned to Dad and Emmett's accident, and this of course led to talk about Emmett's leg amputation. One of the wives – who was a bit of a bimbo – turns to me and asks, 'So, if your husband has an artificial leg, can he still have…. you know… relations in bed?'"

I laugh, already knowing the full story.

Rosie continues. "I was ready to put the stupid cow in her place by saying our sex life was none of her stinking business, when Emmett just turns to the woman – who's husband was only about five and a half feet tall – and he calmly says, 'So gauging from your question, does that mean your husband has to do a run up from the bedroom door and then perform a high jump? 'Cause even with an artificial leg, I'm tall enough to get on the bed without needing to do a run up.'"

Laughing, we make our way outside and head to the large, rectangular marquee.

Taking in the scene before me, I look for my husband, and when I see him, my heart melts. He's on the edge of the dance floor with Esme, Carlisle, and Milly.

After the cake had been cut and the dancing started, Shelly Cope had driven baby Annie back to Emmett and Rosie's home in Ken Lake. Milly, who is three months shy of turning two, had a bit of a tantrum and refused to leave with Shelly, so she got to stay a while longer. Currently, she is standing on Edward's feet and giggling as he holds her hands and dances to the catchy Icona Pop song.

_*kaboom*_

**({'}) **_Calm down, ovaries. Calm down…_

I walk over to their little group and tap Edward on the shoulder. Straightening up to look at me, he smiles.

"Excuse me, may I cut in?" I politely ask.

He leans down and lifts Milly off his feet. "Of course; anything for my beautiful wife."

**({'}) **_*sigh*_

Before he can pass Milly off to Carlisle, I take hold of her and cuddle her possessively against my side. "Thanks! Bye bye, Uncle Eddie," I call out, and I wave Milly's hand at him. Turning towards the throng of bodies that are all bouncing along to the music, I dance into the crowd carrying Milly on my hip, and I leave my dumbstruck husband behind.

**({'}) **_But… but…_

"Up! Up!" Milly babbles. She has both arms in the air and is making the 'raise the roof' gesture. She's such a little groover.

I laugh and oblige her request by 'raising the roof' with my free hand and wiggle my hips to the music. A minute later, the song ends and transitions into Muse's version of '_Feeling Good.' _Familiar hands wrap around my waist from behind me, and I chuckle.

"It's about time. What took you so long, wallflower?" I ask, looking over my shoulder at Edward.

"I was just admiring the view," he replies, palming my ass and kissing the side of my neck before coming to stand in front of me. He wraps an arm around my waist, and I place my free arm on his shoulder. We both embrace Milly and sway in time with the music.

As the next song begins to play, I smile fondly – it's '_Please Don't Stop Loving Me'_ by Elvis. While we dance, Edward sings the lyrics, reminding me of the first night we came to Gallagher Cove.

Halfway during the song, Carlisle and Esme dance up next to us, and a silent conversation seems to occur between mother, step-father, and son. I see tears brimming in Esme's eyes as she smiles and nods at Edward. When his parents merge into the swaying crowd of couples, I look up in confusion.

"What was that about?" I ask.

"This was the song Mum and Carlisle first danced to when they got married," he explains. "While Carlisle was in the coma, she played this song through some ear buds whenever she visited him in the ICU, in the hope that he would know she was by his side."

"Oh, that's beautiful," I say, my words sounding tremulous to my own ears. I have to rein in my lip wobbling and blink back the tears as I'm reminded of the first song we danced to tonight.

Jazz and Seth, who were responsible for organizing the music for the reception, surprised us by starting the night off with an acoustic cover version of _'The Luckiest'_ by Ben Folds. By the time they finished, there wasn't a dry eye in the place. Then they handed me my very own copy of the song that they'd recorded in Jazz's basement studio. I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to it without becoming a snot-sobbing mess.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, appearing concerned. "You look as though you're about to cry."

"I'm not crying," I protest, just as a traitorous tear slips down my cheek. "It's those damn invisible ninjas again."

He chuckles and wipes away my tear. "Ah, yes, the sneaky onion-cutting ninjas," he says with a knowing smile before kissing my forehead. It's the excuse I always give whenever I'm embarrassed about crying, especially when it happens while we're watching a movie, or if I'm reading a sad part in a book.

"You know, this song was playing on the radio the first night we came here," I reminisce, once my girly emotions are finally under control.

"I know. It was me that rang the station and requested that they play it. I knew that Mum and Carlisle would be listening to the show while closing up the club for the night."

"I fell in love with you while dancing to this song," I confess.

"Oh, really? What took you so long?" He smirks.

"Hmm, oh I don't know," I say sarcastically. "I think it had a lot to do with this little lady here on my hip." I look down to see that she's almost asleep with her head on my shoulder.

"At least from this day forwards, if anyone's going to assume I'm married, they'll be absolutely right." He moves his left hand in front of our faces and wiggles his ring finger. The light catches the platinum wedding band with its double-roped edge design and brushed metal finish. I giggle.

**({'})** _I didn't think it was possible that Eddie could wear anything that could make him even sexier, but I was wrong._

The song ends, and Edward kisses me passionately, which results in catcalling from some of our guests – namely the guys from the Breaking Dawn crew. Dozens of camera phones flash, causing Milly to startle in my arms.

'_I'm Yours_' begins to play, and as Emmett and Rosie dance nearby, I manage to catch their attention and point down to their sleepy child. They stop dancing and approach.

"I think Edward managed to sing her to sleep," I say, passing their daughter off to Emmett, and of course, Milly chooses that exact moment to startle again.

"Suck balls," Milly mutters sleepily, patting Emmett on the cheek.

My eyebrows shoot up because I can't believe my ears. "Er… did she just say what I think she said?"

Rosie shakes her head. "Soccer ball. Some of her words don't come out quite right. Emmett bought her a black and white stuffed toy ball the other day, and she's taken to sleeping with it. She means to say _soccer ball_, but it comes out as _suck balls_ instead."

Laughing, Emmett adds, "Yeah, you don't even wanna know what filth comes out of her mouth when she sees '_The Fat Controller_' from 'Thomas The Tank Engine.'"

Edward and I start laughing.

Rosie continues. "At home it's funny, but it's absolutely mortifying when it happens in public. A few weeks ago, Milly and I were walking through the homewares section in Target, when at the top of her lungs, she yells, 'Ook! Big cocks!' I had no idea what she was talking about, and she kept saying, 'Big cocks! Big cocks, Mum!' All these people turned around to look at us, and I just wanted to sink into the floor, when she starts pointing at a wall displaying some oversized clocks."

Edward chuckles. "I know I shouldn't laugh, but given your own lack of verbal filter lately, it sounds a lot like Karma to me."

"Let's just say that Milly had better get out of the habit of saying things like that, or else I'm going to start digging a basement to keep her in until she's thirty," Emmett jokes. Spying Jake and Leah as they near us, he yells, "Hey, Leah! My leg's been feeling a bit stiff lately. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

In response, Leah blushes tomato-red, and then she glares daggers at us. I shake my head in innocence and point to Rosie. Leah rolls her eyes and then merges into the crowd again with a confused looking Jake in tow. Behind me, I hear two familiar voices arguing, and I turn around.

"Put the damn umbrella down," Jazz insists.

"No! I swear it's going to rain!" Ali argues, tapping a finger against her temple. "I've seen it!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not going to rain, and besides, we're under a tent!"

"It is going to rain, and I'll need it if I have to go back to the house or car."

In defiance, Jazz folds his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I'm not dancing with you while you're holding that ridiculous thing."

"It's not ridiculous!" Ali growls. Turning on her heel, she heads to the far end of the marquee where the chairs and tables are situated and throws herself into her seat with an irritated huff. The music changes to Good Charlotte's '_I Don't Wanna Be In Love_.'

"Sorry guys," Jazz says apologetically when he sees us watching, and he turns and makes his way over to Ali.

Rosie, Emmett, Edward, and I turn back to face each other; concern for our friends is etched on our troubled faces.

"I'd better take Milly home and check on Annie," Rosie says, breaking the tension, "that way Shelly can turn in if she wants to, once both of the girls are settled. I'll be back in a while."

Rosie gives Emmett a quick kiss on the lips, and then she turns to me. "Don't you dare leave until I return!"

I give her a salute and go back to dancing with my husband.

-oo0oo-

**11:00pm.**

With a groan, I take a seat at one of the rectangular tables and slip off my shoes. I sigh at the feeling of the cool, soft grass beneath my sore, stocking-clad feet.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

"Sore feet."

"Here, bring them up to my lap," he urges.

I do as he asks, and taking hold of my left foot, he begins to massage the heel.

"Ahhh. I think I love you," I purr, my head falling back in pleasure as I slump further in my seat.

He snickers. "Yeah, I know… you only married me for the foot rubs."

He tickles the arch of my foot, and I squirm and laugh. When he returns to rubbing my foot properly, I turn my head to look out towards Puget Sound and sigh wistfully.

"That was a big sigh," he says, beginning to knead my other foot. "What's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking about the happy times we've had here. I'm seriously going to miss this place."

He smiles. "Speaking of good times, earlier when you mentioned the first night we came here, I remembered a certain conversation you and I had."

"We had a lot of conversations that night, Edward; you'll have to be more specific."

"In the back of the car…"

I chuckle remembering what we did in the Volvo that night. "I do remember some dirty Italian phrases were spoken."

"Of course, _you_ would remember _that_ part."

"But that's because it was… ohhh, sooooooo good." My eyes close as he massages a particularly tender spot. I think I may even be drooling a little.

**({'})** _You and me both._ _Can we leave now?_

"The way I remember it, you said that when _I_ got married – if the right woman eventually came along – you were going to get drunk at the reception. You also said that during the speeches, you would tell everyone about the night we had a box of faulty condoms and mind-altering oral sex. You said my new parents-in-law would love you for being the life of the party."

When I open my eyes again, he laughs at my expression.

"Well it's a good thing we decided to abandon some traditions and forgo the speeches. Plus, I'm nowhere near drunk."

"And speaking of my new parents-in-law…," he says, looking past my shoulder and smirking.

I straighten up in my chair as Mom and Sue take a seat on either side of me, and Dad takes the seat next to Edward.

"Are you having a good time, kids?" Mom asks chirpily, and we nod.

"So, what are we talking about?" Sue asks, reaching her arm across the table to pick a piece of confetti off the sleeve of Dad's shirt. For some reason, the gesture strikes me as odd, and I turn to look at Edward.

He's staring at me intently, and I'm distracted from my thoughts by the mischievous smile appearing at the corners of his mouth, as though he's itching to tell them the truth. I unsuccessfully attempt to rein in my laughter, which in turn, makes Edward laugh.

"What's so funny?" Dad asks, looking from me to Edward with an expression of mild amusement twitching his moustache.

I move my foot from Edward's grasp and tap it warningly against his crotch while raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"Umm… err," Edward stutters and then gulps. "We were just um… laughing at something Milly said earlier…about clocks and balls."

-oo0oo-

**Midnight.**

On seeing the state of the Volvo, I groan.

**({'})** _Whoa!_ _It looks like a New Year's Eve party exploded all over it._

The car is covered in colorful streamers and there are words written in what may be chalk or bath crayons on the side passenger windows. They say:

_'JUST MARRIED!' _and_ 'JUST HITCHED!'_

"I can't believe they did this," Edward mutters, moving to the rear of the car where we also notice a dozen or so empty soda containers are tied to the bumper with colorful ribbons. Dropping our bags, Edward tears at the streamers in order to open the tailgate. It's then that we discover there are words written on the back window.

'_HONK IF YOU'RE A HORNY NEWLYWED!'_

"If I find out who is responsible-" His words are cut short the moment the tailgate lifts. Dozens and dozens of balloons spill out of the car to either ascend into the air or fall at our feet.

Wheeling around to face the crowd of laughing guests who have gathered to watch our departure, I see Maggie, Tia, Nettie, Sasha, Senna, and Siobhan giggling like little kids. And when I say giggling like little kids, I mean that their voices sound just like Alvin And The Chipmunks.

"You lot!" I say, pointing to their little group. "Come here and pop these balloons and clear away these streamers!" As they reluctantly move towards us, I catch sight of the helium cylinder they were shielding with their bodies.

It takes about five minutes to clear the Volvo of balloons, streamers, and soda containers, so we can place our overnight bags in the back. It then takes us another ten minutes to say our good-byes before we can finally leave for our destination. After opening the car door, I spy a curled piece of paper on my seat. Expecting to see something written on it, I pick it up and turn it over, but find it's blank.

"What's that?" Edward asks.

"I dunno. It's blank." With a shrug, I fold the paper in half, place it in the glove compartment and then buckle my seatbelt.

Initially, we had planned to spend our honeymoon weekend recuperating on the boat at Gallagher Cove before making the trip to Florida on Monday morning, but just before the cake had been cut, Grant, one of the guys from the Breaking Dawn crew had passed Edward a piece of paper. On opening the note, he smiled. Curious as to what it was about, I asked Edward, and he informed me that the crew had gifted us with a two-night honeymoon stay at a local resort. When I asked where we'd be staying, he just shrugged and said Jeff and Chris would give us the destination later in the evening.

"Ready to go, Mrs. Cullen?" Edward asks, putting his key in the ignition.

"More than ready." I sigh tiredly.

Edward turns the key, and suddenly we are deafened by the sound of '_More Than A Feeling_' blaring loudly through the speakers as a snowstorm of confetti flies full-blast from the air vents. Frantically, I reach out to close off the vents as Edward turns off the ignition. Now I know why there was a piece of curled paper on the seat. It had obviously been used to funnel the confetti into the vents.

As I attempt to get several pieces of confetti out of my mouth, I look out the window and note that my dad and Sue are now conspicuously missing among the gathering of friends and family members.

Fuckers are gonna pay the next time I see them.

Edward and I both get out of the car and brush ourselves down. I have confetti stuck to my teeth, skin, and in between my boobs. Edward manages to help me to pick confetti from between my cleavage without giving everyone a show as I roll my eyes at my laughing friends.

"Hey, that confetti prank wasn't us," Senna says, raising her hands defensively. "Someone else must have gotten in there before us."

I shake my head, and then we work on getting as much confetti off the seats as we can.

-oo0oo-

**Sunday 7****th**** July – 12:30am. **

"So are you going to tell me where we are staying," I ask excitedly as Edward merges the car onto Highway 101 towards Shelton."

Edward pulls out a small, folded greeting card from his pocket and hands it to me.

I flip on the interior light and open the card. On reading the name and address written there, my eyes widen in shock.

"Arcadia Romantic Getaway?! Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?"

"Huh?"

"Pull over, Edward."

"What?"

"I said pull over, and then turn back!"

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm gonna kill 'em; that's why."

"What's wrong?"

"Do you know what Arcadia is?" I ask, already knowing that Edward must be completely clueless.

He shakes his head. "No."

"It's a hedonist's resort, and not that this makes any difference, but from what I've heard, it's mostly frequented by people more than twenty years older than us."

"What?"

"It's a private resort for nudists. You know… clothes optional and free love in the communal hot tub..."

He grimaces. "I know what it means, I just can't believe it." With a jerk of the steering wheel, Edward turns the car around fast enough to make the tires screech. "Those bloody bastards," he says, ruefully shaking his head.

"You know what this means?"

He turns to look at me and raises a questioning eyebrow. "War?"

"Yes. This means war!"

He grins. "Do you have a plan?"

I smile and slowly nod in response.

"Care to share with the rest of us," he asks before turning his gaze to concentrate on the road ahead.

"Just head on over to John and Leona's place."

"Okay."

I take out my phone and call the number on the card and explain to the nice lady that Edward and I won't be checking into the Arcadia resort tonight – or ever.

-oo0oo-

**12:40am.**

We drive past the turn-off to Connor's house and continue north along Gallagher Cove Road.

"Hey, did you see that sign in front of Cougar Stanley's place?" I'm hardly able to fathom what I've just seen.

"The foreclosure sign?"

"Yeah."

"John told me it happened on Friday morning. Apparently, she hasn't been paying her taxes and has fallen way behind on the mortgage."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Huh. Can't expect the bank will get much back for that place. From what I've seen of the outside, it's a dump, and the land is quite small. I'll bet Connor will be glad when she leaves the area."

Edward nods as he takes a right and then heads to the end of the road towards Mirimichi Drive. Taking another right, he drives to the end of the no-through road, and we pull up in front of John and Leona's house. From the street, we can just see through the dense row of trees that the front porch light is out.

I wonder if they are in bed. They left the reception at around ten as they had their eleven-year-old granddaughter with them, and she was tired and needed to go to bed.

Rather than walk through their yard, we walk down to the shore via the public boat ramp adjacent to their home. As I'm still wearing my wedding gown and heels, I'm grateful to whoever keeps the ramp well maintained. The light coming from the TorchPro app on my iPhone gives me enough illumination to ensure that I don't stumble over anything.

A slight, cool breeze blows from the direction of the water, and I start to shiver. In response, Edward removes his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. Standing near the shore, we look to our right towards the apex of Gallagher Cove. Connor's property is lit up like Christmas with lanterns and fairy lights. Even from here, I can see the party is still going on strong beneath the marquee, and we can hear the _thump-thump_ of the bass beats as they pump out of the speakers. Every now and then, we can distinguish certain loud voices over the music.

"So what's this plan of yours?" Edward asks.

"Remember the other day when Connor told you about the upgrades to the house?"

He nods. As I outline my plan, Edward chuckles and takes his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You know, if we go through with this, there are going to be some innocent victims."

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me – that in the time we've been together – that not a single person left over there hasn't pranked us, or annoyed us, or interfered in our lives in some way or another."

He seems to mull over the question for a minute before answering. "You're wrong. I can think of one."

"Who?"

"Carlisle."

I ponder his answer and concede. "Okay… I'll agree with you there, but given he was once a colonel, I'm sure he'll understand the concept of collateral damage."

Edward snickers. "I have a better idea." Putting his phone on speaker, he calls Carlisle's number.

_"Edward?"_

"Hey, Carlisle."

_"Are you and Bella alright? Why are you calling?"_

"We're fine; I just need to ask a favor. I think I may have left the cufflinks Bella gave to me at the rehearsal dinner in the upstairs bathroom. They should be on the sink somewhere. Can you please go inside and check for me?" I rein in my giggles as I reach out to finger one of the cufflinks on his shirt sleeve.

_"Sure; of course. Just hang on a minute."_

"Actually, can you call back on Bella's phone when you get up there? I need to focus on the road."

_"Okay, Son. Talk to you soon."_

I smile up at Edward. "Hey, let's go over and sit at the end of John and Leona's dock. We'll get a better and more comfortable view of the action from there."

Taking my hand, he walks with me towards the little private dock, and we take a seat on one of the lawn chairs. It's as I sit on Edward's lap and curl up in his arms that he holds his phone up and begins to look through his list of numbers.

Last Wednesday, when Connor had called Edward out of the boat cabin, he explained that Marcus and Felix had organized for a contractor to install a new control panel for the lawn irrigation system. He said that in the event of a forest fire, the sprinklers could be remotely turned on by phone, and he'd given Edward the codes.

My phone starts to ring, and Carlisle's name appears on the screen. Ignoring the call, I watch as Edward hits the call button on his own phone and enters in the 6-digit code number. Suddenly, screams and shouts can be heard, and we watch and laugh our asses off as our friends and family members flee the marquee, only to be faced with even more sprinklers outside.

It's a deluge.

Edward and I turn to face each other. "Epic," we say in unison, and then we quickly kiss in celebration.

When we witness the bedraggled and defeated figure of Alice walking away from the marquee, we burst into laughter again. She's opened her silver umbrella, but with the water rising up from the ground instead of falling from the sky, it's completely ineffectual. It's in this moment I have an epiphany.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim. "Alice was right all along… well… sort of. Our wedding _did_ get washed out."

"Hunh," Edward snorts in amusement, and then he nods in resigned agreement.

**({'})** _I wish we had binoculars. I'll bet Alice Hale looks more like Alice Cooper right now._

My phone stops ringing, and a minute later a text message appears on my screen. It's from Carlisle.

**_I have a feeling you two are responsible for the chaos outside. I don't know what I did to deserve to be spared, but if you promise to bring me back a bottle of Rum and something extra special for Esme from The Bahamas, your secret will remain safe. Deal? – C_**

I show Edward the text, and he laughs and nods.

I type a quick reply.

**Deal!**

Before I can hit send, Edward takes the phone from me and texts the instructions to Carlisle to enable him to turn off the sprinklers manually at the control panel. After a few minutes, the sprinklers turn off, and we watch as Carlisle leaves the house. The drenched guests then appear to reenter the marquee in order to fetch their belongings.

"You know, it's a good thing Mum moved all the wedding gifts into Connor's dining room," Edward says, "although, we've probably lost our security deposit from the equipment hire company."

"Totally worth it." I start laughing and move in to kiss him again when we are startled by the sound of a man clearing his voice.

Turning around, we see John and Leona standing at the other end of the dock. They are dressed in gowns and slippers, and John is holding a flashlight. I almost fall off my husband's lap in my attempt to stand before our friends, but Edward pulls me back down again as they approach.

"What are you two doing out here?" John asks as he takes a seat next to us on the other lawn chair.

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to trespass," Edward says sheepishly as Leona sits on John's lap. She wraps her arm around John's shoulders for stability. "Some of our plans for tonight didn't quite pan out as we'd hoped. We just needed a vantage point to watch and wait until all the wedding guests leave. We'll head back to the boat soon."

"I hope we didn't wake you or your granddaughter," I say to Leona.

She shakes her head. "Grace was out like a light the minute her head hit the pillow. John and I were just watching the late news when we heard voices outside."

We talk with John and Leona for another fifteen minutes or so as we observe the last of the partiers who seem to be standing in a small group next to the marquee.

"God, people, just go home!" I complain. "I'm cold and tired, and I just wanna crawl into bed."

**({'})** _Hit 'em with the sprinklers again, Eddie!_

"If you don't want to face your family and friends, you could always use the RV for the night," Leona offers, pointing to an RV parked next to the house at the end of their driveway. "It's got fresh linens, and I can hook up the power for you."

"I didn't know you owned an RV," Edward says looking back to the vehicle in question.

"Bought it off my brother the other day," John explains. "We've got plans to sell up and move closer to our daughter, but we're going to see some of the country first. We haven't had a vacation for almost eight years."

"When do you plan on leaving?" Edward asks offhandedly.

"Just after January."

Edward and I exchange a glance, and a sudden rush of excitement causes my heart to race. Although the cotton-candy pink interior walls leave a lot to be desired, John and Leona's four-bedroom and two-and-a-half bathroom home is otherwise lovely. It's not as big or austere as Connor's house, but it's perfect for someone who wants to move into the area. With a few cosmetic renovations, I know I can happily live here.

"What's your asking price?" Edward asks.

"For the house? Are you two interested?" Leona smiles at us.

Edward nods, and I'm unable to contain my grin.

"Let's go inside and discuss this over a bottle of wine, shall we," Leona says, shivering slightly against the brisk night air. We all agree and stand up.

Walking hand in hand, Edward and I follow John and Leona along the boardwalk through the garden and up the steps to the rear sliding door of the house.

Before I can step through the doorway, Edward sweeps me off my feet and carries me over the threshold of the house that I soon hope to call _home_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**As toddlers, my daughter yelled out, "Big cocks!" in the middle of Target, and my son used to say, "Suck balls," instead of soccer ball. A friend's toddler used to call 'The Fat Controller', "The fucking troller."**

**Songs mentioned in this chapter.**

**Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel**  
><strong>The Luckiest by Ben Folds (ht)(tp)(:)(/bit.)ly/Bfolds**  
><strong>I Don't Care by Icona Pop<strong>  
><strong>Please Don't Stop Loving Me by Elvis Presley<strong>  
><strong>Feeling Good by Muse<strong>  
><strong>I'm Yours by Jason Mraz<strong>  
><strong>I Don't Wanna Be In Love (Dance Floor Anthem) by Good Charlotte<strong>  
><strong>More Than A Feeling by Boston<strong>


	153. Chapter 153

**_Almost a year later… _**

**_Saturday – 12.30pm. June 14_****_th_****_, 2014._**

"Push!"

"Arrrgh."

"Push!"

"Aarrggh."

"Puuuussssh!"

"Aarrrrrrrrrggh."

"Come on! Push harder, Bella!" Leah urges.

"I'm pushing with everything I've got! Nothing's happening; it's stuck!" I complain through gritted teeth.

"That's because you're not pushing hard enough," she accuses. "You've got to bear down and use your abdominal and pelvic muscles."

I look up and give Leah the '_Do-you-wanna-swap-places'_ expression, and she gives me the '_Well, duh! I-would-if-I-could_' look in return while gesturing towards her bulging baby belly.

"If I bear down and push any harder, _my_ uterus is going to fall out," I gripe.

"Ew. Don't be gross," Ali says from her position at the foot end of the bed.

Exhausted, I lean against the headboard and wipe my sweaty forehead with the back of my arm.

"Why is it so difficult to get out?" Leah wonders. "I mean, how did it get in there in the first place?"

"At a guess, I think it's an IKEA bed. I'll bet it probably went in as a flat pack and was assembled in the room." I blow out a long puff of air that ruffles my hair and cools my forehead. "I think we should leave this for Edward. He'll know where the tools are to dismantle it. If we keep going like this, we're either going to end up damaging the doorjamb, the bed, or ourselves." Ali nods in agreement.

With resignation, Leah sighs. "Okay then. I was just hoping that I could start sleeping on it tonight. I swear Jake is going to divorce me if he ends up on the sofa again. My snoring and grunting in pain whenever I try to turn over in bed keeps him awake for most of the night."

I smile in sympathy at my step-sister. Physically, her second pregnancy has been really hard on her, and because she has recently been unable to work, money has become tight. For the first twenty weeks of the pregnancy, things were progressing as expected, but a few weeks ago, she started to have trouble walking, complaining that her pelvis hurt whenever she stood, and rolling over in bed took forever. A physiotherapist diagnosed her with SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction) and fitted her for a pelvic support belt. On days like today, when the pain is particularly acute, she has to use crutches in order to walk.

After learning that Jake had been sleeping on their sofa for the past two weeks, I suggested that they could have the queen bed from our spare room. It was one of two beds that John and Leona left behind when we bought the house from them, and I told Leah that I planned to turn the downstairs room into a home office for me and Edward, so she'd actually be doing me a favor by taking it. Although, why I thought that Ali and I could maneuver the bed by ourselves, I'll never know.

"I'm sure Edward won't mind pulling it apart and putting it back together again for you." With difficulty, I manage to clamber my way around the jammed bed and join Ali and Leah in the hallway. "Let's go find Rosie and the kids and have something cool to drink."

As we make our way across the family room, we hear Rosie and the kids playing outside on the deck. I find a serving tray, gather the glasses, and fetch a pitcher of lemonade out of the refrigerator before making my way through the sliding door.

"Nooooooooooooooooo, they's mine!" Milly protests at Mae, Annie, and Peaches, who are all oblivious to her distress. They keep knocking over the tower of blocks that she's trying to assemble. With a stomp of her foot, she releases a loud squeal of indignation.

"Milly! Stop your screaming. You'll wake Jenni," Rosie admonishes, reminding Milly that her four-month-old sister is currently asleep in the pushchair. "Do you need to go down for a nap?"

"No." Milly pouts.

"Then play nicely."

I place the tray on the outdoor table, and Ali begins to line up the glasses before pouring the lemonade. Taking a seat next to Rosie on the 3-seater swing seat, I lean forward and gaze wistfully at Jennifer Abigail McCarty, the sleeping baby who is blissfully unaware that World War III is taking place between her two older siblings.

"How are things?" Rosie asks, and I look back to see her concerned expression. "Any luck this month?"

Without asking specifically, I know she is referring to Edward's and my attempts at conceiving. These past twelve months, Rosie has been my greatest confidant and even offered to act as a surrogate should the need ever arise.

I shake my head. "No. I think we missed it this month," I say, mentally recalling last night's debacle.

"Have you guys thought about seeking professional help?" Ali asks. "It's almost been a year."

"You should see someone. You could have one of those hostile vaginas," Leah says.

**({'})** _Who the fuck are you calling 'hostile'?_

**({'})**_ Bitch._

"I read about that in a magazine. Some women have antibodies in their vajayjay that kill off their husband's sperm," Ali adds with a nod.

"I don't have a hostile vagina, and I think I already know what the problem is," I say huffily. "Plus, I've sort of unofficially seen someone, and he says the problem is partly biological and partly bad timing."

"What do you mean?" Leah asks.

"About four months ago, I casually started talking with Brady Fuller during my lunch break. Brady is the OB/GYN Doctor Nettie's dating, and he suggested that I start charting my morning temperature, cervical mucus and position, and whenever Edward and I have sex. He said that after two consecutive charts, he'd be happy to analyze them for me, and he recommended a book about monitoring fertility signs. Anyway, after two months of charting, he looked at them, and told me that even though I had a regular 28-day cycle, I ovulated at around day twenty, which means I have a short LP."

"Huh?" Leah and Ali say in unison.

"Apparently the biggest fertility myth is that most women ovulate on day fourteen, and it means that in the past there may have been some months where Edward and I didn't have sex at the right time. However, in my case, even if we did time it right and managed to get the sperm to meet the egg, I had an eight-day luteal phase, meaning there wasn't enough time for a fertilized egg to implant itself before my period would come along and expel everything."

"So is there anything you can do now?" Ali asks. "Because most fertility specialists won't even look at you until you've been trying to conceive for twelve or more months."

"Yeah, I know. Brady said the same thing. In the meantime, he said I should continue charting, maybe use some ovulation prediction sticks, and start taking a vitamin B6 supplement to extend my luteal phase, along with a regular prenatal vitamin." Raising my glass of lemonade to my lips, I add, "He also told me to cut out the coffee intake. Apparently, caffeine is a diuretic that can deplete B-group vitamins."

_God, I miss coffee._

"Ohh, I have some left over OPKs you can have. I bought them cheaply in bulk when Jake and I were trying for a second baby. I can send you the link to the Ebay store where I bought them from," Leah says excitedly. "They have cheap pregnancy tests too."

"Thanks, that'd be great," I reply.

"So is it working yet?" Ali asks. "Are the vitamins helping with your gluteal phase?"

I giggle at her misuse of terminology. "I think so. Last month, my _luteal_ phase increased to ten days, which improves the chances of a successful implantation, but the timing issue is another thing altogether. In fact, it's a bit of a sore subject between me and Edward at the moment."

"Why's that?" Rosie asks.

"Because last night I tried to convince Edward to have sex when he had a headache. He didn't think it was funny when I told him to, 'Just lay back and think of England,' when I offered to do all of the work."

Leah, Ali, and Rosie burst out laughing.

I roll my eyes and huff in mock-indignation. "Yeah, go ahead and laugh at my pain. You three only have to look sideways at your husbands and you end up pregnant."

"Nuh-uh. Not me. One is enough, thank you very much. After the damage Peaches inflicted on my insides, I've told Jazz there's no way I'm ever going through childbirth again, and I'm sick of taking the pill. In fact, he's booked in for a vasectomy next month."

"I've been trying to convince Emmett to have a vasectomy, but he's being a wuss. Maybe I should tell him that Jazz manned up."

"Pffft. Manned up? It's more likely that I threatened to withhold sex unless he had his boys snipped."

"Really? Hmm. Maybe I should try that with Emmett," Rosie contemplates aloud. "I've already pushed out three heads. It's his turn to take one for the team."

"Yeah, two is enough for me. They say SPD gets worse with each pregnancy and comes on a lot sooner. If I have another one, who knows what'll happen. I could end up in a wheelchair during a third pregnancy." A look of amusement crosses Leah's face. "Maybe I should tell Jake to get a vasectomy as well."

Rosie snickers. "We should find them a urologist that does group discounts."

"But only if we can ship them off to a remote island where they can be miserable together while they recover," Ali adds.

"Agreed," they all say in unison.

Our laughter is interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening, and Edward walks out onto the deck.

"Hey, here you are," he says before leaning down to plant a gentle kiss upon my cheek. "What are you four laughing at?"

"Penises," Rosie says.

He rolls his eyes at her. "I should have known better than to ask."

"Actually, we were talking about vasectomies," Ali clarifies, and Edward grimaces.

"Which is nothing that you'll have to concern yourself with; at least, not in the near future, anyway." I glance at my watch. "Hey, you're home early. It's only one o'clock. I saw your schedule and figured you wouldn't be back for a few more hours."

"Yeah. Last lesson got cancelled."

"Eddie. Eddie. Uncka Eddie. Up!" Milly says, tugging insistently on his trousers and raising her arm in the air. "Kiss?"

He reaches down and picks her up. "Hi'ya, sweet girl," he says giving her a grin and kissing her on the forehead. In response, Milly grabs him by the ears, leans forward, and then blows a big raspberry on his cheek. "Ergh. Yuck, that was a sloppy one." He laughs and wipes off the toddler spittle with the palm of his hand.

"Um… I told Jake and Leah that they could have the bed from the downstairs bedroom. Ali and I thought we could move it out to Ali's truck by ourselves, but it's stuck in the doorway. Do we have any of those L-shaped tool thingies so it can be dismantled?"

He tilts his head to the side knowingly. "In other words, you want me to dismantle it and reassemble it at Leah's place. Is that it?"

I smile up at him and bat my eyelashes. "If you wouldn't mind?"

"Yeah, okay, but first… hello there, you three," he says, looking down and beaming widely. Not only does he have two and a half year old Milly begging for his attention in his arms, he now has 15-month-old Peaches and 18-month-old Annie attached to each of his legs like a pair of limpets, and Mae is holding up a blue block for his perusal.

"Be a bear," Milly demands.

After convincing Peaches and Annie to let go of his legs long enough for him to get down on the ground, Edward moves around on all fours and gives the girls rides on his back while letting out the occasional growl, making them all shriek hysterically.

"He's going to make a wonderful father," Rosie says quietly enough that Edward can't hear from his position at the far end of the deck. "And you'll be a fantastic mother, too."

I nod sadly, thinking of the words Edward said to me just before he left this morning.

_When I come home from work, we need to talk about what happened last night._

-oo0oo-

**8.30pm.**

I raise the glass to my lips and gaze out over the water to watch the sun's last rays painting the overhead clouds in hues of gold, orange, and red.

"There you are," Edward says softly as he approaches along the boardwalk.

Our boardwalk starts from the last step of the wooden stairway that leads up to the deck. From there, it meanders around the large trees and ferns in our garden and ends at our little dock.

In response to his voice, I turn my head slightly to acknowledge his presence, and he continues. "I got out of the shower, and you were gone." I say nothing in return as he takes a seat on the padded sun lounger next to me.

In distain, I note he's wearing a pair of black Addidas pants and his holey, yellow Sex Pistols T-shirt again.

_Note to self: Make holes bigger and convince him to throw the ugly T-shirt into the trash._

Leaning forward, he picks up the bottle of wine from the wrought-iron table that is situated between the foot ends of our chairs. He reads the label on the bottle before pouring some wine into the glass I left there for him. Leaving the glass and bottle on the table, he leans back against the headrest of the lounger and watches the sunset.

"I thought you weren't drinking alcohol while we were trying for a baby," he says after a minute or two of silence.

"Figured it didn't matter. I'll stop again… after my period."

"Are you upset with me?"

"No…" I lie, and then after a beat or two I confess, "Yes."

"Look, I'm sorry about last night, but I honestly did have a migraine. I was hardly able to see straight, and it took everything I had not to throw up."

"Is this what you want to talk about right now?"

"Well, yes it is." He pauses and doesn't speak until I turn to face him. "Thank you," he says, and I realize I've been behaving rudely by not looking at him while he's trying to talk to me. Repositioning my body to lie sideways on the lounger, I wait for him to start again.

"I just want to tell you how I'm feeling right now," he begins, and immediately I feel nervous. Reaching out, he takes my hand in his. "I want to start off by saying that I really love you, Bella, but these last few months you've made me feel like a means to an end rather than your husband." I start to protest, but he interrupts me. "Just let me speak, before you get defensive, okay?" He runs his thumbnail over his lower lip, a habit of his that indicates he's worried he'll say the wrong thing to upset me.

"Just spit it out. I know I came on a bit strong last night," I admit, now feeling ashamed of my behavior.

He sighs. "It's not just about last night. Sex… sex isn't fun anymore."

I feel as though I've been punched in the chest, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"It hasn't been fun since you started up with all this fertility stuff," he continues, "and I just miss the way we used to be. Things between us were always spontaneous, but even when it was planned out it was adventurous. Nowadays, it's as if you're on a baby-making rampage, and sex feels like a structured scientific method."

"What?"

Releasing my wrist, he holds up his hand and shushes me before pointing to each finger to list off his concerns.

"Since you started reading that book, we only have sex at certain times of the month. You'll only have sex in the missionary position with a pillow under your bum, and after sex, instead of going for round two or cuddling or whatever, you turn around and lay there with your legs in the air, resting your feet up against the wall. You changed my diet; told me what I can and can't eat in order to improve the pH of my semen and the motility of my sperm. But the most annoying part of all this is when I tried to do something that _I_ truly wanted, something that you've always enjoyed in the past," he says, the tone of his voice rising, "I got told off for it."

"When?" I ask defensively.

"Remember last Thursday when I tried to go down on you? You freaked out and told me that my saliva was going to destroy everything because that bloody fertility book said so."

Unfortunately, he's right. The book mentioned that saliva could kill sperm, and rather than gently bringing up the topic away from the bedroom, I'd totally killed the mood with just a few wrongly placed words. In response, he'd rolled out of bed and had a shower instead.

**({'})** _Then you told him off for masturbating._

Feeling horrible, I struggle to find my footing in order to get up off the lounger, so I can run back to the house and hide away. I don't want to cry. Before I can leave, he grips me by the wrist, and I turn to look at him.

"Don't leave," he begs, his voice sounding full of anguish. "Please stay and talk to me. I need you to hear what I'm saying."

Stunned by the emotion I can see written all over his face, I sit down again, but the tears start to fall.

"Look…" he says, sitting on the side of the lounger, tenderly wiping the tears from my cheeks. "I just want sex between us to mean more. I want to be able to come home and be with you because I've had a rough day at work and need you to make me feel better. I want to be able to sweep you off your feet and throw you on the bed and make love to you because you're my beautiful wife and I love you so much that I want to make you feel amazing. I need to feel wanted by you because you love me for me, not just because I'm a convenient vending machine that spits out sperm. I need touching and foreplay, and not to be jumped on just because it's the right time of the month. I want occasional surprises, sexual tension, teasing and silliness, along with all that other fun stuff we used to do together. I still want to have sex with you so that we can make a baby, but quite frankly, crawling on top of me after you've peed on a stick, and announcing, '_I'm ovulating, so you'd better do me right now!_' just isn't working for me."

"I never said that," I protest sulkily.

He smiles and shakes his head ruefully. "No. Not exactly in those words, but you did lift the pillow off my head and showed me the stick, so the '_do me right now_' was pretty much implied."

Chuckling, I wipe off the left over tears. "I'm sorry I've been behaving like a lunatic. It's just that sometimes I feel as though I've left it too long. A woman's fertility doesn't exactly improve as she ages."

The breeze picks up a lock of my hair, and he reaches out to brush it away from my eyes before cupping my cheek. "Bella, you're only 32 and-"

"Nearly 33," I counter.

"Nevertheless, that's not old. A lot of women wait to have kids in their 30s. And look at Sue; she fell pregnant with Embry when she was 40."

"I guess."

"All I'm saying is that I don't want baby-making to become all-consuming. I get that you're worried and feel the need to take control by any means necessary, but I just need us to be _us, _too – Edward and Bella – two people who are in love and enjoy showing each other their love by having fun, but meaningful sex."

"Are you sure you're not the girl in our relationship?" I joke.

He shakes his head. Dropping his hand from my cheek, he reaches out to pick up his glass of wine. "Well, after that flowery speech, I'm beginning to wonder." He chuckles.

"Okay, so I promise that I'll stop being such a controlling and neurotic fertility freak, but how long before I can start worrying again and call in professional help – if we don't get pregnant?"

Taking a sip of his wine, he ponders. "Half of our problem has been the timing, plus back In March, we didn't even get a chance to try for a baby because I was away with the Army Reserves, and we also decided not to get pregnant last November and December since we were both entering the Sydney-Hobart race. So, if you take out those three months, we technically haven't been trying for a full year."

"I suppose."

"You said the extra vitamins and stuff we're helping to extend your… um?"

"Luteal phase..."

"Yeah, that. So how about if you keep taking the vitamins, keep charting and estimate when we're most likely to conceive, then I'll make sure I'm around and cancel anything that takes me away during the next four months."

"So that means no night work, interstate work, or fishing weekends with my dad and Carlisle?"

He nods in agreement. "And in exchange, all I ask is that you tone all the other stuff down and be a bit more spontaneous at other times of the month. If we don't fall pregnant by October, then we'll do it your way and see a specialist. Deal?"

"Deal." I move towards Edward. Shoving him backwards on the lounger, I begin to tug on the waistband of his track pants.

"Err, Bella? What are you doing?" he asks while attempting to place his wine glass on the ground.

"I'm being spontaneous and adventurous. Plus, we're going to have make-up sex. Win, win, win."

"Here? Outdoors?" He moans when I slide my hand inside his boxer briefs.

"What's more adventurous than outdoor sex? In fact, we haven't had outdoor sex since we moved here."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for outdoor sex, but I draw the line at exhibitionism; especially in front of children."

"What?" I look around at the surrounding properties to see if anyone is watching.

"Look over at Connor's dock."

Sure enough, Connor and his three nephews are sitting on the end of the dock with fishing poles in the water. I didn't see them there before, so they must have ventured outside while Edward and I were talking.

"Damn." I remove my hand from Edward's cock, and he whimpers.

A brilliant idea develops in my mind.

"Follow me." I urge, and taking hold of his hand, I pull Edward off the lounger and lead him towards the garden.

"Where are we going?" he asks, the amusement and excitement clearly evident in his voice.

"You'll see."

As we pass by the grove of trees that separates our property from the shore, I pull off my T-shirt and allow it to fall to the ground.

"Here?" he asks uncertainly.

I shake my head and keep walking. "Nope."

When we reach the middle of the garden, I pull down my shorts and stand before him in my underwear.

He grins and looks around the garden. In this position, we are fully shielded from the view of our closest neighbors.

"Here?"

"Nope." I turn and head towards the house. Behind me, I can hear Edward chuckling.

As I reach the steps that lead up to the deck, I reach back and unfasten my bra. I fling the bra haphazardly over my shoulder, and Edward catches it.

"Are we going inside?" he asks, and I can hear a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Nope." I turn around and kiss him passionately, but before he can get carried away, I wriggle out of his embrace and turn to walk up the steps, exaggerating the swing of my hips with each step. Without warning, I feel the sting of his palm against my backside, and I giggle.

"Fucking tease."

"Stop complaining; you love it," I call over my shoulder, and he laughs.

Standing before the swing seat, I remove my panties, and then doing my best Vanna White impersonation, I indicate with a flourish where I want us to have sex.

"You want to do it on the swing seat?"

"Yep."

"Do you think it can take both of us without breaking?"

"It's made to hold three adults, Edward. Besides, nothing says adventurous sex more than ending up in a full-body cast after the act."

He bursts into laughter at my ridiculousness. "Okay." Grabbing hold of my hips, he starts to kiss me passionately and walks me backwards until I fall back onto the swing seat. He kneels on the deck, between my legs, and starts kissing and touching me everywhere. That is, everywhere except where I want to feel him the most.

"You're a tease," I pant.

He chuckles against the skin of my inner thigh. "Stop complaining; you love it," he whispers, throwing my earlier words back at me.

I wriggle my bottom towards the edge of the padded seat and grip the sides of his face in an effort to not-so-subtly direct him to where I want him to go.

"Is there something you want, Bella?" he asks huskily, his warm breaths blowing over the hood of my clit.

"Please," I whine impatiently.

**({'})** _Please. Please. Pleeeeease!_

"Please, what?" he teases.

"Use your mouth to make me come," I beg.

The second his tongue comes into contact with my clit, I wonder why on Earth I stopped him from doing this to me the other morning. Clearly, I must have been suffering from some sort of temporary insanity to deny myself from such bliss.

Unconsciously, I begin to move my hips in time with Edward's thrusting fingers and swirling tongue, and before too long, the coiled energy building low in my belly becomes an unstoppable rush of ecstasy. I come hard with a small cry that I muffle with the palm of my hand so that the neighbors don't hear. Sated and happy, I watch as Edward kisses his way up my body, paying particular reverence to my breasts before making his way up my neck, ending with a fiery kiss to my mouth. The kiss takes my breath away.

"Your turn," I whisper against his lips, and with a little prodding, he gets off his knees and stands before me.

His hard cock is visibly straining against the confines of his clothes, and I lean forward and rub my face over his length. Gripping the sides of his pants and boxers, I pull them down to his knees. Instantly, his cock springs out to greet me, although it's shrouded by the length of his T-shirt.

**({'})** _Oh, that won't do. That won't do at all._

**({'})** _Come out, come out, wherever you are, El Capitán._

I reach up to touch Edward's chest and smooth my hands over the threadbare fabric of his t-shirt until I find precisely what I need. Using my index and middle fingers, I pull at the sides of the hole and start ripping the T-shirt from just below the neck band.

Looking down at me, Edward snickers. "You really hate this T-shirt, don't you?"

"Yep." With his abdomen exposed, I lean forward and nuzzle against his happy trail, breathing in the scent of soap, skin, and Edward.

"What did this T-shirt ever do to you?" he asks with a groan as I gently nip at his abs with my teeth while attempting to tug the lower hem apart. Stubbornly, it won't play the game.

"It was keeping me from what I wanted the most," I say huskily, making sure to keep eye contact as I finally embrace my inner she-hulk and use all of my strength to break the hem of the T-shirt apart.

"And what was that?" He smirks.

"This." I reach up and take him in my hand. "Che cazzo bello. Così grosso e duro," I say, breathing the words out over the head of his cock that is already glistening with a bead of pre-cum.

"Oh fuck," he pants, as I flick my tongue out to taste him. His head falls back, and his knees almost seem to buckle before he manages to steady himself by holding onto the top of the swing seat.

Working my mouth and hand in earnest, I manage to find a good rhythm, and soon I feel Edward's hand on the back of my head, gently urging me to go deeper, and I happily oblige.

At the sound of his soft moans, I look up, and the expression of unbridled lust that is written all over his face is such a turn on. In response, I double my efforts to change that expression from lust to pure ecstasy. My hand creeps up along the back of his thigh, but he stops me before I can reach his ass.

"Not now," he says, cupping the sides of my face in his large hands and gently guiding me to release him from my mouth. After one final lick, I pull back to look up at him. He takes a step back, and I watch as he tugs his boxers and track pants down the rest of the way. He steps out of them and then pulls off the tattered remains of his t-shirt.

Completely naked, he takes a seat next to me and lifts me up so I'm straddling him. Reaching down, I immediately guide him to my entrance, and we quietly moan in unison as I sink down on his cock. Grasping the back of the seat to anchor myself, I begin to move my hips as Edward lavishes my breasts, neck and lips with kisses and caresses. I know when he's close to coming because his head falls back, and he situates his hands on my hips, helping to move me harder and faster. The springs of the swing seat start to creak and groan in time with our thrusts, and I just hope and pray they can hold out.

"Ughh," he grunts. His eyes scrunch tight, and his mouth falls open as he comes. I grin with satisfaction as he reaches up and pulls me down to clutch me firmly to his chest. "I love you," he pants next to my ear.

"I love you, too," I whisper, and I pull back to kiss him.

When we break away from the kiss, he's smiling and looks very relaxed. "Thank you," he says.

I let out a short, soft laugh. "Actually, I should be thanking you. Thank you for reminding me that sex is meant to be fun. You were right."

He gives me a shocked expression. "Wait! Do my ears deceive me?"

"What?"

"You actually said I was right about something for once."

I start giggling and smack him playfully on the side of the head. "Bask in the moment, Cullen, because it won't happen very often."

The chill of the breeze against my slightly damp skin makes me shiver, and Edward and I decide it's time to head indoors.

We shower together and then spend the rest of the night in our bedroom where we eat ice cream under the covers and watch re-runs of 'The Big-Bang Theory' before falling asleep, wrapped around each other.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – This chapter was inspired by an online article called 'The Truth About Baby-Making Sex' which talks about how a couple's sexual relationship can change when they don't conceive as quickly as they'd like. And because I had an 8-day LP it's *cough* **_partly based on real-life_** *cough* (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/MakingBabies **

**Disclaimer: This chapter contains general information about medical conditions and treatments. The information is not advice and should not be treated as such. You must not rely upon the information in this chapter as an alternative to medical advice from your doctor or other professional healthcare provider. **

**Translation - Che cazzo bello. Così grosso e duro** = **_What a beautiful cock. So big and hard._**

**Final chapter is next.**

**({'}) **_*sniff*_


	154. Chapter 154

**3 hours later…**

**_*kaboom*_**

**({'}) **_Well, it's about time you showed up, egg. What do you have to say for yourself?_

**O ** "Ta-da?"**  
><strong>

**({'}) **_Never mind, better late than never, I suppose. _ _I'll just put on some mood music, okay?_

~o ~o~o ~o  
><em><br>_**({'}) **_Are you ready?_

**({'}) **_For your partying pleasure, I'd like to play an old favorite of mine. It's called 'Let's Get It On' by Marvin Gaye.  
><em>

* * *

><p>~o<br>~o ~o~o ~o  
>~o ~o~o ~o<br>~o ~o~o ~o~o ~o~o  
>~o ~o~o ~o<br>~o ~o ~o ~o ~o ~o ~o ~o

**O **"_Wow. There's so many of you! Do you guys, like, come here often?"_

_~o ~o ~o~o ~o~o ~o~o_  
>~o ~o ~o~o ~o~o<br>~o ~o~o ~o  
>~o ~o ~o<br>~o ~o~o ~o~o  
>~o ~o~o ~o<p>

* * *

><p><strong>({'}) <strong>_Do you come here often? Seriously, that is the worst pick-up line ever. *facepalm*_

**({'}) **_Oh, wow! They are all over that ovum like white on rice. _

**({'}) **_F__or God's sake, people, look away and give them a little bit of privacy! Come on, back off, please. Have some decency!_

**({'}) **_There's nothing to see here. Go back to your lives. _

**({'}) **_Honestly, you people are gawping like you've never seen a conception before._

**({'}) **_Go on. __Run along now. We'll just leave them to it._

**o~**

**({'}) **_Hey, dude._

**({'}) **_Dude! Yeah you. _

**o~**

**({'}) **_You're going the wrong way. I said you're swimming the wrong way! The egg is thataway._

**~o**

**({'})**_ Okay, now you're going in circles. That's just stupid._

_**o~**_

**({'}) **_Fine. Ignore me. It's your loss. I was just tryin' to be helpful._

_**~o**_

**({'}) **_Sheesh. You are dumber than a box of rocks.  
><em>

_**o~**_

**({'}) **_Anyone would think you were destined for a head-job or a shower tile rather than a conception. You were supposed to go after the egg instead of hanging around with me!_

****~o****

**({'})**_ I wonder who's winning? Not you, that's for certain. Loser._

**o~**

**({'})**_ I hope they're having a girl. If they have a girl, they could name her Elizabeth after Edward's grandmother. _

**({'}) **_Go Team XX. You can do it!_

**({'}) **_Elizabeth Cullen. That's a nice name, don't you think?_

**({'}) **_And with a name like Elizabeth there are so many possible nickname choices._

_****~o****_

**({'}) **_There's Beth, of course._

**({'}) **_And Betty._

**({'}) **_Lizzie or Liz._

**({'}) **_Eliza._

**({'}) **_Liza._

**({'}) **_Elle or Ellie._

**o~** What about Libby?

**({'}) **_Libby? But, that's my name!_

**({'}) **_If I know Bella – and I think I do – I can safely bet that she won't be calling any of her kids Libby._

**({'}) **_Huh! Look at that. Party's over. _

**({'}) **_*Sniff* They grow up so fast. One minute they're two separate gametes, and the next…_

**({'})**_ Looks like we've got ourselves a bouncing little zygote now, and I have a good feeling that this one is going to stick around._

**The End… and a new beginning.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN **

**Song to conceive to – Let's Get It On by Marvin Gaye (http)(:/)(/bit.)ly/Lets_Get_It_On**

**Thanks for reading this piece of ridiculousness and sticking with it. I hope I've managed to make you smile or laugh somewhere along the way. Thanks to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me to keep going and to anyone who recommended this story through facebook, twitter, or fic blogs.**

**I'm sure I could go on and on with this story, but I think here is a good place to end it. These characters have been living inside my head for two years, and it's time for me to move on to something else. I've had a few people ask if I plan on writing any future-takes or out-takes in EPOV. For now, the answer is no, but that's not to say never. I've got a couple of plot-bunnies on the boil, so I hope you'll continue to follow me as I create other versions of Edward and Bella.  
><strong>

**Additional 1/11/13 - I just found out this story is on the TwiFictionRecs Top Ten Completed Fics **list** - September 2013. Thank you to anyone who took the time and voted.  
><strong>

****Cheers,  
>B-O-B xxx<strong>**


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